Oh baby, baby, it's a wild world...

Yes, I have been listening to Cat Stevens (or whatever his new name is... anyone?) a lot recently. Something has got it into my head, and I feel the need to listen pretty much all the time! You will be relieved [for my housemates sake!!] that I manage to resist this most of the time... but some days, I just need to here the classics!

Anyway, I'm actually using that lyric as a title because of the insane weekend I just had. And by insane... well, ok, just a bit odd really.

How can it be, that I have an entirely isolated weekend, spent 1) working 2) washing and 3) cleaning (and that's actually it. Seriously.), with very little going out/talking to people the entire time. My only face to face interaction on Saturday was when I felt cabin fever getting the better of me, and strolled up to Spar to buy milk and the Telegraph - I LOVE the crossword!. Thus, I spent a grand total of £5 or so over the weekend (I also bought oven cleaner, I know, crazy times eh?!)...

And then Monday happened.

Fail.

I managed to triple book myself, and thus miss two [important] things in the morning - a meeting and a revision/work session. Oops. Just entirely stupid on my part.

But I *did* manage to take the car in for MOT & service - due both, not concerned about the car at all, booked in for Saturday originally but the garage rang and asked me to put it back to Monday. "No problem", she says, "makes no difference", she says.

Fail #2.

So, I dropped it in, and was told - teatime it'd probably be all done.

1.00 (with my lunch sitting in front of me, not even ONE bite eaten), and the phone rings - the garage. Fantastic.

"Well, the good news is your car has passed it's MOT"...

[Bated breath, waiting for the 'but'... yeah, I was too]

"TechnicalcarstuffIhavenoneedorwishtounderstand" (seriously, I am TRAINED to not talk jargon to patients, because it doesn't make sense. But apparently everyone should know about car calipers. Much like the hairdresser, asking if I want my hair feathered/layered/harsh/soft/razor/scissored/rough scissored/etc. I just want it cut).

The long and short? Brakes are shot to pieces, crumbled when the guy took them apart, never been replaced, brake fluid not working, brakes misaligned, tyres gashed, some stupendously important bolt rotted/corroded/rusted, etc. The guy doing the test refused to take it on a road test because it was "too dangerous".

£330.

Ouch.

And what's so concerning? I didn't even know - the car has been FINE. Literally. No concerns whatsoever, "2 careful lady owners - one only took it shopping" (and that's the truth - my grandmother had it from new, and when I got it, 3 years ago (when it was 9 years old), it had 6,000 miles on the clock. Really. It now has 20,000).

So all of a sudden, my £120 for MOT/Service has turned into £450, brings-tears-to-eyes, knee-weakening, bill.

As one housemate put it... for that money, I want it to FLY when I get it back.

Oh, and one final little kick in the teeth. The absolutely integral bolt they needed to replacement (a snip at £20, incidentally, the absolute CHEAPEST thing!), was, of course, not in stock. So they had to keep it. So I had to brave the Barrow BUS this morning. Which didn't so much turn up on time. Insult to injury chaps, insult to injury.


But, hey ho, here I am in snowy Barrowlands, after a BRILLIANT day at GP land :) I love GP land once again! Last week of Paeds as of tomorrow, and, dare I say it, I might just be entirely prepared (five presentations ready to go, all cases done, logbook handed in, all practical skills done, life is sweet!).

And now, I think it might just be bedtime.

Sweet dreams, tout le monde (of a world where MOTs are free and cars don't break, but ALWAYS brake!)