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Sunday ghastly sunday
It all begins last night, when I find myself having to make a decision I would rather cut my left arm than make. As a result I sleep badly - practically not at all. Then morning comes and, BANG!, all the lights go out. I use a pre-paid electricity counter, and, guess what, the charge has run out. I cannot wash because the water, without electricity, is freezing. So I dress, go out, buy some electricity with the last of the week's money. I come back and find that some of my fruit has rotted. I do not feel like eating all the remaining pears at once, so I make a milkshake. You would think that a Moulinex mixing-chopping machine would be well engineered, wouldn't you? Heck no. Liquid keeps leaking all over the furniture. I spend more time cleaning up after it than making the shake. Then I pour the shake into two pint glasses and put the in the fridge to cool - one promptly tips over and FLWOSH!! half a litre of thick sweet fluid all over the floor. That is when I begin to scream...
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