blackberry444 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
blackberry444) wrote2008-08-18 11:11 pm
blackberry444) wrote2008-08-18 11:11 pm
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It looks so nice!
I finally finished rearranging all my tqt, and my room looks really nice now, although it could probably do with much less stuff in it. I still have room to exercise or throw a small dance, though. I am so lucky to have such a large room! Still, I feel as though I've done everything I can for a while. When we've sorted out the office which will take some of the stuff, I shall give it further consideration.
Today I threw out a lot of manky old underwear I shall never wear again; I've no idea why I've been hanging on to it. I also have some unworn bras which I should pass on to the charity which supplies bras to women in Africa, if I can find the URL. I bought them just before I found I had breast cancer and they're not really suitable for me now, even adapted for a prosthesis.
What I did find, a couple of weeks ago, when I got to the very back of my knicker drawer because I was waiting for other people to finish with the washing machine, is an extraordinary pair of giant black knickers, which I have no recollection of ever seeing before. They're some sort of strange nylon-y material, like thick mesh tights and they're so huge that I could probably get two of me into them at once, which is saying something. This is even before they start to stretch; at full stretch they could well be a strapless vest as well as knickers. Where on earth can they have come from? I keep taking them out and looking at them, and I'll swear they're getting bigger!
The weather has been too lousy for me to venture out on the scooter, but David is going to try it out tomorrow evening when he comes over for Boy's Night Out, as he wants a portable scooter he can take around in the back of his car as well as the large one he has at present.
Tomorrow we'll tidy the spare room and make the bed, ready for my Sis coming on Wednesday evening; I probably won't feel like doing anything like that on Wednesday after cardiac rehab, when I will very likely want to spend the afternoon resting. Charles is planning to cook his special spag bol for Wednesday evening's dinner which we'll have late after she's arrived. I can't wait to see her.
I have a very untidy desk, but that will just have to wait. It's strange it's so untidy, as only last week I went through everything, throwing stuff out and filing other stuff; I feel as though I'm drowning in paper!
I still haven't had an answer from my bank to either the first or subsequent letter I've written them. So much for the much-vaunted idea that banks look favourably on and try to assist people who communicate with them and tell them what's happening. They've obviously washed their hands of me, but not bothered to tell me. Phooey!
Today I threw out a lot of manky old underwear I shall never wear again; I've no idea why I've been hanging on to it. I also have some unworn bras which I should pass on to the charity which supplies bras to women in Africa, if I can find the URL. I bought them just before I found I had breast cancer and they're not really suitable for me now, even adapted for a prosthesis.
What I did find, a couple of weeks ago, when I got to the very back of my knicker drawer because I was waiting for other people to finish with the washing machine, is an extraordinary pair of giant black knickers, which I have no recollection of ever seeing before. They're some sort of strange nylon-y material, like thick mesh tights and they're so huge that I could probably get two of me into them at once, which is saying something. This is even before they start to stretch; at full stretch they could well be a strapless vest as well as knickers. Where on earth can they have come from? I keep taking them out and looking at them, and I'll swear they're getting bigger!
The weather has been too lousy for me to venture out on the scooter, but David is going to try it out tomorrow evening when he comes over for Boy's Night Out, as he wants a portable scooter he can take around in the back of his car as well as the large one he has at present.
Tomorrow we'll tidy the spare room and make the bed, ready for my Sis coming on Wednesday evening; I probably won't feel like doing anything like that on Wednesday after cardiac rehab, when I will very likely want to spend the afternoon resting. Charles is planning to cook his special spag bol for Wednesday evening's dinner which we'll have late after she's arrived. I can't wait to see her.
I have a very untidy desk, but that will just have to wait. It's strange it's so untidy, as only last week I went through everything, throwing stuff out and filing other stuff; I feel as though I'm drowning in paper!
I still haven't had an answer from my bank to either the first or subsequent letter I've written them. So much for the much-vaunted idea that banks look favourably on and try to assist people who communicate with them and tell them what's happening. They've obviously washed their hands of me, but not bothered to tell me. Phooey!
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Surely not! It's the task of Sisyphus, combined with the labours of Hercules (stables a speciality).
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No answer from the bank is the height of bad manners. Can you contact their head office and tell them you've not a reply? You could ask them what you should do next; who you might contact etc - and then sit back while HO tear strips of the branch manager.