Red October

OCTOBER seems to be a seasonal hurdle for me, what with all the expenses on TV licensing renewal, yearly water bill, insurance renewals, and — a new addition — the re-mortgage.

To begin with, I’ve been sick most of last week, suffering fevers on two consecutive nights and becoming so alarmed as to dispense instructions to Priscilla for the odd chance that I should, erm, pass in my sleep. Luckily, I’m still alive. But, even now, I still have some remnants of flu, mostly a constant runny nose and an urge to sleep.

Thankfully, as we crawl towards the end of Red October, things seem to be looking up.

Our washing machine broke a month short of two years, which I deemed un-acceptable. Backed by Consumer Direct, I made a claim for either a full refund, or a replacement, to Argos. They’ve now agreed to not only replace the faulty machine, but also to give us an upgrade to the latest model and refund the call-out charge of the engineer. Albeit we’re still waiting for delivery, but it is a win in my book. Me 1, retailer 0.

It’s not very often that the taxman sends you cheques, yet this is exactly what happened when I was sent one as refund of excess tax payments. That money will probably be taken back just as quickly as it arrived, though. Still, for now, me 1, state 0.

Once I had my palm read by a Sikh who charmed me with a small red stone and too-good-to-be-fluke guesses of my name, date of birth and other supposedly secret personal details. At the time, I was having some issues, the outcome of which I was curious about. He said, “Don’t worry— If you survive October, everything will be alright.” I thought he meant that October, but it looks more and more like it is an annual recurrence — my own Red October.

Eddy.

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