I don't normally resort to Anglo-Saxon derivatives to convey how I'm feeling. Consider this the last resort. If you don't like the usage of profanity, look away now.....You can, if you so wish, skip this paragraph and the next. What a fucked-up few months this has been. I went through all that passport bullshit with the Canadian government, to such a degree, that I didn't even know I could legally board a plane to Vancouver until about a week before my flight. My right elbow is still hosting a giant tit aka "tennis elbow". Typing with the intrusive tit makes keyboard manoeuvring quite the contest.
To add some farcical, fucking festivities to, the season to be jolly, season, I now have a car that has had some rather unwanted customising.
A little over three weeks ago, I took my car in for some routine servicing. I made mention to the mechanic that the car was running a bit rough. When I went to get my car, I was assured the vehicle was now okay. When I drove off, I realised that the car was still running a bit rough. I booked my car back in to have the problem rectified.
Nine days ago, I did indeed have the niggling engine problem apparently sorted. That was the good news when I phoned to see if my car was ready. Here's the bad news. The mechanic told me that he'd taken my car for a test drive and that the bonnet, (the hood), flew up on him while he was driving. The end result was a smashed-in bonnet, a dented roof and a cracked windscreen.
He claims that I had a faulty bonnet latch. This is now causing a, who is responsible, legal battle. There is no way I will pay for the repairs. I consider this most odd that in the seven years of owning the car, I've never had any trouble with my bonnet flying up. In fact, within the last two months, the only time the bonnet has been opened was during the time it was taken to the mechanic's garage.
The irony within all of this is that if the car had been properly serviced in the first place, my car would not now be smashed up. I now wait for the mechanic to get a replacement bonnet, fix my roof and replace the windscreen. In the meantime, despite assurances my car is safe enough to drive, I'm paranoid about going out of town.
I suppose, when I really think about it, 2016 has been a screwed-up year, worldwide. Bizarre Brexit result in the UK, some sort of reality TV presidential election in the States and the horror that is Aleppo. Despite my moaning, I do realise I have plenty to be grateful for.
Once again, the comments are switched off. I'm sure you still understand that it's very difficult for me to actually type. This has left me way out of the blogging interaction loop.
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