Losing it

I have just been on the phone with Melita Cable, or whatever it's called now. One word of advice, if you feel a lot of pent up anger inside, never ever call Melita Cable. I did, I called ten times in a row. And every time I got a , Good evening, Melita, how can I help? So I explained my browsing was terribly slow, definitely not the 20Mb they had promises, so they said ok hold on... and the line went dead. Ten times. Ten flipping times. And by thee eleventh time, that was it. I flipped. After having listened to a get-the-sports-channel ad for a million times, and heard Abba songs so many times that I could sing them from memory, I got another, Hello how may I help. And I said I didn't know if they could help since I'd heard all about the sport channel and listened to Abba ad nauseum and called ten times and I'd had enough of the crap, and that don't they dare put me on hold again because they were just putting the phone down. It worked. The word finally changed. In no time at all I was being called Madam and no, nobody put me on hold. Oh the joys of erupting on someone. The joys of losing one's temper. The joys of getting the service I am paying for. I thought I'd forgotten how to lose my temper, it's been so long. And I'm not sorry. It was another way of therapy. And since I am footing the Melita bill anyway, I'm so glad, glad, glad. I wish I'd said more, but in between dragging on a cigarette and giving them a big piece of my mind, I think I did well. Now... I want more!

The hindrance

I have been thinking about a conversation held between myself and a little man. And I do not know if to laugh or cry. It's funny, and tragic at the same time. Little people are the best, but as always there will be one little person who will make you sweat. You'll never forget this one no matter how many years go by. And I have tried and tried and tried to understand the concept behind this little man's way of reasoning. I have tried being nice, being not so nice, being very not so nice. Nothing works. To say that this little man is a hindrance in all I do is an understatement. And to say that I have to make us of all my self control when dealing with him is another understatement. He says he is into nothing of the sort of things going on in a state school, because, he feels so superior seeing he was in a private school. And he thinks he is something better than everyone because he says he's toured the world. And quite frankly, I hate his snooty behaviour. All the more so because it is accompanied by a let-me-make-teacher's-life-hell kind of behaviour. I wish he'd kept touring the world, maybe in some ship, so maybe some shark would have come by and eaten him up. And yes, I know I'm not being very nice, and that I'm actually being extremely bad, but I come here with the whole truth and sometimes the truth isn't very nice either. When I was a little lady (and I wasn't an easy to deal with little lady either), I would jump for joy at the chance of taking part in any school activity as long as it didn't involve sport. Not this little man. I sometimes think of him as lying in wait to take any opportunity that presents itself. He's smart, and sly. One of my dirtiest looks doesn't bother him in the least. I have tried ignoring him. That doesn't work either. I know what would suddenly work, but I do not believe in corporal punishment. Is it really a spare the rod and spoil the child? I like to think it's not. But sometimes I just like to think about it. I'll never do it, but thinking about it never harmed anybody.