One of those hours!

You know those days when argh? Well, I just had an hour like that. A chap I'd posted a Bombard to on 25/7/11, he having paid on 24/7/11 (ooh, what a peculiar date), dropped me a message on Ebay to ask what was going on, as he still hasn't received the model these sevral weeks later! Now, that's bad news in anyone's books. We have to rely on postal services, as hand-delivering items internationally is liable to put up the postal charges! Second, it's thoroughly embarrassing when someone doesn't get their order, as one feels it's in some way one's fault. As I say, I could have gone over the Channel to do so . . . if I were a millionaire.

Anyway, having had a bit of an argh, I realised there wasn't any reason to panic. I have been shovelling these receipts away into a plastic bag all this time for precisely this sort of eventuality, so I can prove I did send what I say I did. Ok, so where's the bag? Mm, it's not over there. Oh, well, it's got to be there. Hm, that's bad. It isn't. Rush downstairs and interrupt Mum on the 'phone, and thus discover that she threw it out, thinking it rubbish, when we had some relatives over last weekend (when I was away in Wales). Aw, shucks. OK, I think it's in an orange Sainsbury's bag. To the place where we keep the bin bags! Slash, slash, slash, slash, slash, slash. I don't see it. I don't see any plastic bag - wait! That's . . . not it. Shucks. Then my brother comes out to help me go through the rubbish in the rain. "Do you ever get the feeling we're in Dragnet?" It's a Dan Aykroyd/Tom Hanks '80s comedy which includes a scene in which they meticulously go through rubbish in a park. My brother finds the bag! Not orange, but a white Tesco one.

Back inside, tip out the contents, peel a soggy teabag off my bed. Awesome. Flick, flick, flick, shuffle, rustle, rustle, there it is! I have the receipt. OK, tension is now decreased, but I smell like half a dozen bags of rotting vegetables and teabags. Hello, ladies! Yeah. I shall add this to the list of reasons I need to move out. I love Mum, but she does like throwing things out. My brother told me that it's quite by chance that he hasn't got rid of the rubbish in the last few days, as well. I have dodged a bullet here. perhaps I shall abscond with one of Mum's cushions to teach her a lesson. ;-)

Funnily enough, I'd had a heart in mouth experience the other day. Ebay's default title for messages sent after an auction has been won is "Where is my item?" So although the sender was only interested in learning the origins of my old Stormblade, now his, I had a small eek of alarm! :-D Anyway, to the Post Office tomorrow to find out what I can find out about this. I know things do go missing in the post, but I defy anyone not to be irritated when it's something they sent and onto which they plastered the recipient's address with feet of sellotape! until next time, people!