May 3, 2008

On December 11 last year, a few days after my birthday, my beloved wristwatch, my fellow traveller de jour for years, clunked.

Now, this is something only watch wearers and fellow OCD victims will understand: It. Is. A Nightmare.

Especially if you also suffer from Complete Lazy Twat Syndrome, which I also do, which is why - rain, wind, winter, blustery spring - I have not bothered to walk a half mile down the road into the Bad Lands and buy a new one.

And yes, it is - indeed - now May 3.

Like, almost six months later.

But hey.

Mr Dunn walks out of his apartment (!) today, wanders past his downstairs landlady/hairdresser shop arrangement type thing, and what - what! - does he find right next door.

A watch repairers.

Which is shut on afternoons.

Which means, if I wasn't bastard blogging this morning, my watch would work.

Bugger.