Kind of a big deal. 

When the inevitable happens and I keel over with my leg in the air – because two things in life are certain – death and taxes-  (And the phenomenon of feeling better the morning of a doctor’s appointment, or unexpected visitors *stab stab stab them to death* when you’re mid Netflix binge and a six pack of Magnums in your pants and a t-shirt, sans bra, or your hair looks fanfuckingtastic the day before a long awaited hair appointment) my obituary will read thus:

Lindsey E Mason: 1961 – 20XX 
“She never knowingly under-reacted”

I’m not proud of the ease with which I can ahem gently segue from calm and controlled to batshit. It doesn’t take much. I almost always regret it, but not always.  I kinda enjoy it. I’m worried though that meltdowns are like alcoholism – you start off with a wee glass of wine at night then before you know where you are you’re having vodka for breakfast and drinking oh I don’t know hairspray. 

What, then, is the next step for a menopausal lunatic like me? Genocide? It’s a worry. The reason I’ve brought this topic up is that I had a good meltdown today. Most satisfactory. Very pleasing in actual fact. It was over that bastard dinosaur necklace. (I told you it had more comebacks than Frank Sinatra. If you don’t know the story read a previous post but why would you? It’s boring the arse off me, so christ knows how you must be feeling). The company now want me to PAY to have the bloody thing sent back to me! The cheek of it! I gave them a piece of my mind on the phone though, don’t you worry about that. I even said “I’m kind of  a big deal in the world of blogging you know, and I SHALL be blogging about this”, despite the fact that this is obviously a lie. My blog has 19 followers. NINETEEN. 19 followers and I think I’m it. I slammed the phone down, metaphorically, I was on my mobile. Five minutes later my phone rang and I recognised the number as theirs. “Ha!” I thought triumphantly; “they’ve had a change of heart now that they’re aware I’m kind of a big deal in the world of blogging. They’ve obviously googled me and can’t take the chance that a high profile blogger like me could take their company down to Chinatown with just a few clever words”. 

Me: “Hello Lindsey Mason speaking”

Them: “Hello this is Julie again from customer care at Overpriced Jewellery for Wankers. I’m sorry but I’ll need to take your card details again for the return postage. The card machine didn’t work first time”

Well, you can imagine my response. Suffice to say (I bloody love saying that) it’s now being returned FREE OF BLOODY CHARGE OH YES IT IS. Not that I want the fucker back but it’s the principle innit?

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