I have a few calls that I class as ‘favourites’ – the ‘why do I have to pay interest on my loan?’ call is one of them… Here’s a thought, fuckwit, it’s all about supply and demand - we have money, you want money, now you have to pay for it. Go think about that for at least a week and if you still don’t get it, don’t call us, call the local hospital and inform them that you should be on life support – you’re too fucking brain dead not to be.

The ‘I don’t read anything you people send me’ call is another one… You didn’t notice that your repayments increased because you didn’t read the fucking letter we sent you and somehow you alone, out of all of the people in this country, missed the fact that interest rates increased back in November? Don’t whine and bitch to me because your loan is in arrears and collections are calling you, you sad fuck. You have no one to blame but yourself, if we didn’t have to send letters to fuckers like you, the company would make more of a profit and I’d get more shares when it comes time to allocate them to staff. Fuck you.

The ‘But I didn’t read my contract!’ call is yet another… You. Didn’t. Read. Your. Contract. Let me say that again – You didn’t read your contract. Nope, doesn’t matter if you say it fast or slow, it still makes you sound like a fucking idiot. Don’t get me started, please, please, please, for all our sakes, don’t get me started on this one.

People who call for one of those and then have the nerve to yell at me and abuse me for their fuckups get bonus blood pressure points.

So I’m sure you can understand my sheer delight on Friday afternoon, after quite a good day, I might add, when I got some dumb fuck on the phone who combined ALL 3, plus the bonus blood pressure points of yelling and abusing me for his problems. The amount of self control it took for me to resist the burning desire to hiss down the phone to him that he 'just made the biggest investment of your sad, pathetic excuse for a fucking life, and you're telling me you didn't read the paperwork, you fucking moron?' I will never know, but it probably explains why I didn't have enough control left over to stop myself kicking the crap out of my desk draws a couple of times. (yeah, I know, I shouldn't be in customer service, which is why I find it moderately amusing that I'm so fucking good at it) (Well I am good at it! Shut up!)

I’m not even going to get into the finer details of the call, there’s no point and it gets me angry all over again every time I think about but suffice to say, it took a lot of champagne cocktails on Friday night (and some truly superb salmon) before I was able to regard the situation with any degree of equanimity (I’m not drunk now, hence my refusal to recap). From there on in, my weekend got off to a flying start.

I had blocked in the whole weekend for packing but due to a fuck up on the builders part (some paperwork wasn’t lodged) Belle and I wont be able to move into our place for at least another fortnight. That left me with a whole lot of spare time that I used to relax, a little bit of packing and a whole lot of WOW. (Shut up, I have an addictive personality and it’s VERY addictive). My right shoulder is actually a little bit sore from the angle I had to hold my arm at to use the mouse (desk is set up for someone taller than me). But it was worth it. Totally worth it.

There’s a little bit of geek in all of us.