Of Luther, teeth and web hosts

Now there's a title you don't get very often. Would be a great set of ideas for a short story, I'm sure. Would probably have to involve time travel though. Anyway, I've spent some of the day - not as much as I intended - editing more of Luther's Ambassadors for Goldenford, but have only managed to get to Chapter 15 on page 82. Still, about halfway through now, so that's something.

I've also been struggling with web hosts - again. Deep deep sigh ... Now neither Zen nor UK Hosts appear to be talking to each other, and so I have written a severely stroppy email to everyone asking why I, as the customer, have to be running around like a demented postgirl (virtually) delivering messages when they could just as well simply pick themselves off their arses and speak to each other to sort it out. And yes, I did put it something like that - but that's the polite version. I've also asked them to put my complaint to management (whatever that means in a virtual business ...) and will wait to see if that might put the touch paper up where the sun don't shine. Hell, I'm happy to light it. Oh yes, my Inner Bitch is really strutting her stuff today. Even Lord H has got involved, and now Nick from Zen (welcome to the Twilight Zone, Nick ...) has promised to ring him every day at work next week until it's sorted out. So the Zen people continue to be very sweet - just totally ineffectual. And apparently they're the best in the ruddy business. Gawd help us all then!!

I've also popped into Godalming on the offchance of finding a parking space - I set off late - and found there were actually zillions of spaces. So many that it became hard to choose one ... Is everyone still on holiday? Anyway, that cheered me as I wasn't hopeful, so I did manage to get a spot of shopping done. Which amounted to the Surrey Advertiser and a bottle of De-Stress Bath Oil. Lord, how I need the latter ...

This afternoon, I dragged myself unwillingly to the dentist - who was on fine form and even more scarily like my mother (arrggh!) - and have had four fillings. Four!! It's astonishing I can shut my mouth at all now, and I don't think there'll be much talking done tonight. Lord H breathes a cliched sigh of relief then ... And I have to go back in six months' time instead of my usual year to see if the fillings have worked. Worked? Worked!?? Ye gods, if they haven't worked I shall demand my £160 back. Plus ruddy interest! Honestly, £160 for one hour's work. I'm in the wrong bloody business for sure.

Tonight, I have a domestic schedule long enough to terrify even a Victorian servant. Serious cleaning, washing and ironing. Whatever happened to Friday night on the razzle, eh?

Today's nice things:

1. Getting a parking space
2. Sending rude emails (oh so satisfying ...)
3. Surviving the dentist without crying.

Anne Brooke
I don't know - this may be my website, but I've given up caring enough to check ...
Goldenford Publishers