Banks

I am still living at home. I could turn this in to a huge sweary rant about estate agents and people who pretend to want to sell their house but actually want to disappear and are completely unable to fill in a form properly. But I won’t. I would however, recommend that under no circumstance whatsoever do you say mid conversation to an estate agent that you are “about to open up a can of whoop ass on them”. Firstly they don’t know you’re joking. Secondly, you sound ridiculous and they may refuse to sell you a house as you are a knob.

But there are other things to think about. I have just tried to make a payment and had my card declined three times. Upon ringing HSBC there apparently has been fraudulent activity on my card but not my account so they have destroyed my card. Well thank you so much for letting me know. Thankfully I was only trying to pay my tax bill rather than something important like shoes but it would have been nice to get a little warning.

I don’t really understand what they are talking about. They read through every transaction on my account and every single one was mine. I was expecting the reply “God you spend a lot” not “Well, Miss Sleep I am afraid that’s all fraudulent and we are destroying your card. We’ll send you a new one in a week”. A WEEK! I have £10 in my purse, no petrol and two of my mates have had babies today, not really the occasion to turn up empty handed or with stuff you’ve found in the cupboards. “Would the baby like a teasmade?”

I am also going up to Scotland for a wedding this weekend I am hoping that the B&B I am staying in accepts string as payment. I am mainly upset as I am going by train, and I follow the theory that what ever you eat, drink or spend on a train doesn’t count in the real world. Which is a good job as the average cost of a cup of tea on GNER is £4-50. Therefore I tend to pass 6 hours on a train by indulging in my own little Roman orgy of individually wrapped biscuits. Accept once when I slipped in to a coma upon leaving Edinburgh and woke up in Peterborough to find everyone around me had moved and about a litre and a half of saliva covering my upper body.

So I am on rations. I am hoping that booze at the wedding is free and I can smuggle a couple of bottles away with me, I shall swop the name on one of the presents for mine and shall do a runner from the B&B. Miss Sleep sounds like a pseudonym anyway.

I shall also try and retract the huge, sweary, ranty email I have just sent to HSBC. No threats of whoop ass but not my finest hour.