Shower Power

A couple of months ago we got a new shower, due to the fact our old power shower was slowly dying, It sounded like it was struggling a lot, and it would occasionally reduce its power down to that of a standard shower. This to some of you is fine, but after living with the wonders of a power shower for 5 years it’s a HUGE difference.

Anyway after many weeks of wrestling with the land lady, (who must be out of the matrix the way she kept dodging us and making up excuses) we finally got our new shower.

So I bet your thinking we were all extremely excited, after having to endure our piss poor shower, finally getting back a power shower. Right? Right?
Wrong. Without using it we could tell the plumbers had done a shoddy job, there was a big hole in the tiles, right through the wall

Deciding to forgive them for this, since after all we finally had our shower back.

Getting to the point of this post, I think I’m going to have to quote my Brother here, and state the pressure of the shower is equal to that of “An old man dribbling”. I kid you not; we have gained the world’s worst power shower, in exchange for the world’s best power shower.

Ah, but that’s not the best part, this shower comes with some other nice features.
Such as, that hole I told you about in the tiles… yeah that leaks… causing water to leak through the floor into the room below. (This feature was fixed after a week or two)
It was loud… oh so very loud… (This feature fixed itself after a week or two)
It takes 10 minutes to warm up the water first thing in the morning.

As amazing as these features are… Today it gained another feature when I went for a shower.
Not only was it incredibly loud again, something it’s not done in a month. But interestingly… It has also been affecting the TV signal.
Now… I’m not a plumber, an electrician or someone who specialises in radio waves, or whatever waves, but I can’t even begin to imagine how a shower can affect the TV signal.

Whilst showering I tried to work this out, and it came to me between conditioning my hair and brushing my teeth, all the while listening to the delightful, buzzing the shower was producing. I realised that under the deep buzz of the shower motor there was another constant high pitched noise, the noise which I can only really compare to one thing, which I’m sure most of us have heard before. Remember is music class there were always those metal xylophones (which aren’t real xylophones, since xylophones are wooden, the metal ones have another name which I can’t currently remember), Now imagine playing the highest note on there, the note played out for a pretty long time right? Now imagine playing something a few notes higher… and constant… For the whole shower. Occasionally fluctuating a between a note higher or lower.

Now listening to this note, and thinking the only way the shower could interfere with the TV would be by sending out a signal of its own, I concluded that it was actually sending out a signal to the mother ship, most likely telling it we were foolish human who will never realise their plan until it’s too late.

The worst part of course was as soon as I went to turn the shower off, it went back to normal, the buzzing stopped, the high pitched noise stopped.
My obvious reaction was calling it a bastard, to which it unhooked its shower head and started beating me black and blue until I surrendered.
Ha not really. But I did call it a bastard rather loudly. (Which I’m sure says something about my sanity)

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Paper Cut Debt

Papercuts. We have all had them, the bastards are tiny little cuts which seem to have an inverse correlations between size and pain, the smaller the cut, the more it hurts.

I believe that everyone has a paper cut quota, where every year they have a certain number of paper cuts they must be given, for those who have a phobia of paper this will be one or two a year, but those who handle paper on a day-to-day basis this could be much more.
Now over the past few years I’ve been lucky and seemed to have been able to stay paper cut free.

But, about a month ago, The Paper must have found out about my paper cut debt and decided that since I had been unintentionally avoiding paper, I would get up to date on my 3 year paper cut debt in the space of two weeks. That’s right, over those two weeks I was getting papercuts from left right and centre. At one point I was getting at least one papercut a day, i was constantly running back and forth from the school library to my car’s first aid kit. Whilst I don’t mind blood, I doubt my teachers would have appreciated the printed essay I was giving them covered in blood.
I ended up spending two weeks looking like i was trying to keep my fingers together with plasters.

I thought by the end of this torture I was up to date with my paper cut quota, and I had satisfied The Paper.

However, last week I decided as a last-ditch effort to revise I will put sticky notes all around the house, connecting one psychological study to an item. There about 30 or 40 sticky notes currently cohabiting with books, trinkets and walls, most residing in my bedroom. They have been lain in dormant for about a week now.
But sometime whilst the house was empty they must have gotten together and decided that I had humiliated them enough by boarding them between book pages and with ugly pictures, and they had to do something about this.
So this morning whilst in my recently woken up, shambling zombie-like state I managed to attain two new paper cuts.
Whoop-dee-doo.

So now I’m off to sacrifice some CD’s and DVD’s to try to appease The Paper.

(Disclaimer: The Paper is in no way related to a certain dark-haired, glasses-wearing, british library agent. But rather the God of paper, and all things paper related)

Car Troubles.

I have to take the bus into school today so I can do an exam.
Now, I have nothing against busses, in fact I love traveling on them, they are loud and seem to have little or no suspension at all, so you feel every pot hole in the road, but for some reason that’s what makes them so great.
So it’s not the bus that’s got me irked, rather the fact that I own my own car and I have a full drivers license, yet, I have to take the bus to school an hour before the exam and an hour after the exam, what the hell am I going to do for an hour after the exam?! I would have officially finished school by then.

So you’re probably thinking, why can’t you take your car? What’s wrong with it.
Now… This is the fun part. My car is absolutely fine. The problem lies in the fact we have 3 people with driver’s licenses but only two cars. So mine has been taken, so it can go and sit in an airport car park for however long.
My mum is at work so she has the Audi.
So me being the youngest and the most flexible, I’ve got the take the bus.
To make matters worse, I’ve got to take the school bus home. Great, little kids screaming and throwing stuff around, after I have sat, what is likely to be a mind-boggling exam which I don’t know the answers to.
Grouchy Daydreamer + Small kids = another addition to my bloody axe collection.

Damn, gotta dash and wait at a bus stop, will spell check this later.
Have a good day stranger.
Edit : Turns out I miss the school bus due to my exam finishing late and end up on the 4 o’clock bus, having to endure some kid staring at my chest the entire time. Congratulations kid, you have realised I’m female and have boobs, now could you atleast be a little more subtle about the staring?

A Daydreamer’s Rants

Welcome to my humble abode dear stranger.

Within these posts I shall be posting my day-to-day rants about my at the moment lonely and mundane life.
Whilst I would usually bitch to people around me, my complaints are usually met with comments about my oh-too-frequent bitching. It’s true, I like to complain about things, but I think it’s only fair, I am naturally laid back about most things, so I should have the right to be able to take some time about from my relaxed attitude and tell those around me what’s bugging me.

However, not wanting to sound like a picky, scrutinising old hag, to my friends and family, I’ve decided I would instead, show this demeanor to the world, that way I have a huge base to which I can spread on a nice healthy serving of Rants.

But don’t worry, I will however try to preserve some of my laid back attitude to life by attempting to make my complaints humerous.

So have fun currently unknown stranger.