What an Effing Crappy Boxing Day

Yesterday was a write-off, a day I would mostly like to remove from my memory bank. Normally that shouldn't take long as I have a terrible memory, but I have a nasty feeling that this one will hang around for quite a while, like a lingering mauvais pong.

It began badly. I discovered that my kitchen sink was blocked when I tried to do the washing up. I chucked in some unblocking gel and left it to do its thing.

Then I had to go to work, on Boxing Day, but because France doesn't do Boxing Day, muggins here was up at the crack of dawn (it being around the shortest day) to haul her weary bones to earn a crust. I don't like working on Boxing Day. It feels wrong despite the fact that I've been in France for a really long time now (and at this time of year it feels way too long!). There were two of us at work: me and the guard.

Luckily on Wednesdays I finish at noon so I could escape to the joyous prospect of dealing with the sink, which I discovered was still blocked. The water hadn't moved a jot. It was all still there, stagnating. The gel had not worked, at all.

I poked my head under the sink and, because the plumbing in the house is so crappy, as I was taking out the bottles and boxes I keep there, I knocked a tube and a whole sink-worth of water cascaded out onto the floor. Some people are flooded from torrential rain and an over-flowing river outside; I just get flooded from the sodding sink inside.

It was not a happy moment. I believe I screamed and beat my head against the wall. Then I had to go and chuck all the books that were piled up on the floor over to the other side of the room so they didn't get soaked.

A frustrating hour later, I'd found the culprit, a blockage made up of a plug of fat. God knows how it got itself into a perfect plug shape and had the time to get attached to the U-bend. There's hot water flowing down the sink regularly. It was probably being away for 24hrs over Christmas that did it.

Then I discovered that my cleaner had poured a whole load of bleach down the sink and it had spattered all over my decent brown jeans. The bleach was manifesting itself through the appearance of red patches up and down my legs. EFFING RUINED!

To cheer myself up (much needed) I decided to go and use some of my Christmas gift coupons to buy a new pair of jeans. I could use the coupons I received in the Halle aux Vetements (not normally my first port of call...) so off I went. Ten pairs of jeans later, I had to leave the shop empty-handed. They were either too big or too small or too crappy. Actually they were all crappy, so I tried Kiabi next door. Same result. I could use the coupons in Pimkie or Etam but I'm not 12-20 so anything I bought would make me look like mutton dressed as lamb and a total twat.

By this time I was totally frustrated as well as furious. I stomped around Carrefour to buy wine, some food and brown dye then went home to glare at the sink and carry on mopping.

My DB came round so I could take out all my frustration on him (bless 'im). Then I had a nice cup of tea and a mince pie. Later I made a recipe from BBC Good Food - Garlicky potato and mushroom gratin to which I added some girolles (chanterelles) that I'd bought as a treat in Carrouf, and it was sooooo good and so wickedly creamy that I felt really much better.

So things did improve eventually, but my god, what a mostly effing awful sodding day!