This Is Not A Democracy

So, I'm off sick again. My lungs just can't cope with the Ben Crouch Tavern - thank fuck for the smoking ban, this summer. I am in so much pain at the moment - I feel like I've gargled bleach and been punched in the chest repeatedly. My head aches because I can't stop coughing.

But yeah - even though I should be at work, because we're so busy at the moment - I'm ill enough that I couldn't go in. I woke up at six shivering - despite having a quilt, three fleece blankets and my pyjamas to keep me warm - and now I'm sweltering.

And then, to add some comedy to the equation, my bank phones up. "Oh, I'm sorry - did I wake you?"

"No, I have a *cough, hack* chest infection..."

"Oh, well, we've noticed that you're using your overdraft facility quite a lot and we'd like to let you know that you're pre-approved for a £7,500 loan if you'd like one."

"...Dude, wtf? You won't even give me a credit card!"

"Well, hmm... maybe the situation was different at the time."

"Really, no. But thank you, I'll keep that in mind."


Seriously: they won't give me a low-value credit card, but they want to give me a £7,500 loan?

Logic, there - not one of their stronger points.