Pretty fed up

I'm pretty fed up today. My washing machine is wrong, very wrong. It's pissing water all over the floor and when it spins it sounds like the house is about to fall down.

Jonathan had a look at it, cut his hand quite badly 3 times and found £1.07, a sock and a wire from a bra - but still it rattles like the end of the world. He had another look yesterday and told me to try it again. So I did this morning. I put loads of newspaper down just in case, and it pissed water everywhere again and the new floor (well, 6 months old) is starting to lift. Oh happy days.

The drum has a big dent in it and a large lump of metal and 2 bits of plastic fell out of the bottom. Hmmm.

I was cleaning Ysabella's fish out this morning and cracked the tank, hopefully it will hold until I can get another one. Maybe I could just let them swim round the utility room floor.

Now the Christmas decorations are starting to get on my tits and all I can see is the fire without a surround looking dead stupid, and the 1/3rd of the walls that are bare plaster.

Because of this, the screws that went all the way through from our bedroom wall to poke out of the newly decorated bathroom wall are really, really driving me nuts and I'm picking fault with everything in the house.

Jonathan went this morning for a minor op on his face and, as usual, has been messed around by the NHS and will be 5+ hours longer than he was supposed to be.

I want to go and boil my head somewhere.

On the positive side, we went to my friend Jan's birthday party and I sang (almost sober) on the karaoke. Which was pretty scary for all those in the vicinity. My choice of song? Motorhead's Ace of Spades.

Well somebody had to.