At work on Monday I managed to track down a guy who was both local and who knew the make and I phoned through the model number that evening. He came round on Tuesday but decided he'd bought the wrong part and would have to order up another. That would arrive Wednesday, so I arranged for him to come over Thursday morning. At midday I phoned him, only to be told he'd be here late afternoon ("after three"). It's now six o'clock and I still have no idea if he's going to turn up or not.
I emailed myself enough work to keep me going so I haven't wasted the day, but it is inconvenient at a time when I need to keep my nose to the grindstone. Also, it makes me look like a dick, because I've now had to ask twice if it's OK to work from home and there's a good chance that I may have to start the process all over again next week with someone else.
Or do I bite the bullet and just go out and buy a new washing machine? It's now six-thirty and he's not answering his mobile phone.
I've also just bought new glasses – I've been struggling to read smaller print and suffering a bit eye strain for a few months and went to the opticians last weekend. They confirmed I need stronger glasses for reading and that the lenses in both eyes are starting to harden, the first stage of cataracts. I have Nuclear Sclerotic Cataracts, which is the most common form, and it usually begins at around the age of sixty. I shouldn't have much trouble from it for perhaps a decade, so it's not something to worry about... yet.
Still no sign of the washing machine repair guy. I think I'd better go and start dinner.
Life. It'll get you in the end.
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