Arranged for euro cash to be collected tomorrow, transferred money into account ready for euro purchase (exchange rate nudging up nicely, but holding out for 1.17, deadline is tomorrow), arranged to collect new sim card from O2 tomorrow.
Now, that, made me very angry indeed. In fact, so angry I was almost (almost!) speechless.
Let me explain.
About a week before Christmas I suffered the trauma of losing my phone. My phone that I use for keeping in touch with my girls, for tweeting, facebooking, blogging, listening to the radio, charting my runs, checking translations, checking word spellings, meanings, alternatives, keeping an eye on the weather, keeping an eye on the exchange rate, and so on.
But all appeared fine as the nice kind helpful people at O2 said they could block my sim card and get a new one out to me pronto. So all was well. My phone was even returned to me by the nice kind person who found it. But, of course, it was useless until said sim arrived.
Now, I am a very patient person and was happy to wait and blame the Christmas post and seemingly endless bank holidays on the daily desperate absence of my sim in our post box. Until today.
I telephoned those oh so very nice O2 people to politely enquire as to the whereabouts of my sim, only to be told it's been sent to an address that has no bearing whatsoever on mine. OK, mistakes are made, we all do it. But what really got my goat was being told I can simply go into any O2 store and pick up a new one.
So all this time of being in an empty phoneless desert I could have just walked into a store and got a new one?
Ho hum. I didn't shout (honestly), I didn't get angry (really), just calmly but coldly expressed a little displeasure. O2 people are going to credit my lost time. Nice people.
No time left today to sort it out, but sure as hell I'm going to be in Horsham's O2 store first thing tomorrow.
All that done I rewarded myself with a 10k out and back run, with a few nice long ups and downs. Base training. Boy do I love this period. Just run, day by day, clocking up the miles, strengthening the legs. No worry about speed or timings, just put in the ground work, lay the foundations. No pain, just sheer pleasure.
Got back to my second reward of the day, a nice big chunk of Christmas cake. Well, I did have a few carbs to replace.... And thank you KP for talking me into making two. Good move.
But the ballet.... Wow. Just, wow. Absolutely beautiful, exciting, sublime and serene. Powerful stuff. Perfectly choreographed, perfectly executed. Moscow City Ballet. Chichester Festival Theatre. Fabulous. And so intimate, so exquisite. The ultimate athletes, bodies sculptured and honed to absolute perfection, in perfect balance, control and movement. Such effortless beauty.
So sad when it was over.
To bed happy.
(1) Brasserie Blanc, Chichester