Had a nice-ish weekend away. However, returning to my desk I see little has changed. Hi ho.
There’s an old children’s ball game ‘Pig in the middle‘. Used to play it when I was eight or nine years old. There are three players. Two throwers and one who has to catch, the throwers have to throw the ball to each other and the person in the middle has to try and catch it. Played in the right spirit it can be a lot of old fashioned fun.
Not so much fun at present. Continual delays by issues on the side of the property vendors are stressing out Mrs S, she in turn is venting twice daily (at least) in the direction of yours truly. Which is something I really don’t need. This situation is creating disturbed sleep patterns and putting me in my least favourite position, that of a no-win scenario. The vendors are taking their time, however the exchange rates are still relatively favourable but will not stay that way forever. I have people from all quarters coming at me asking why this or that is not happening. All I can do sometimes is bury my head in my hands and point. Because somehow, apparently, this is all my fault.
Normally I can brush most of these delays and general shenanigans off, but right now everyone is losing their shit, which is landing upon my desk to deal with. Thus leaving me with a pile of the wet and smelly stuff, hence the following appeal; send Lawyers, Guns and Money.
Passing thought; I’ve got lawyers and money, not so sure about the guns as I’d be forever in a cleft stick wondering who to shoot first. Please do not let me be so tempted. I have an eccentric and often perverse sense of humour.
In a time when everyone else seems so gosh-darned angry, said sense of humour is an essential psychic survival tool. It helps me get past things which are of such cupidity and foolishness that my haemoglobin does not spontaneously fission.