Hell of a day...

...but it's all turned out fine in the end.

First up, a telephone conversation:

Me: "Hey, you okay?"
Other person: "No, my hands are shaking and they won't stop, and I feel faint."
Me: "Look, do you want me to come up to campus?"
Other person: "No, I'll be fine. If you hear a thud though, that's just me dropping my phone."
Me: "Heh heh. You sure you don't want me to head over?"
*thud*
Me: "Are you there?"
Third voice: "Are you alright? Go and get a first aider."

Cue hanging up and phoning again, to make sure the samaritan knew what the situation was, and frantically bussing it up to campus. I'm within about thirty feet of the ambulance before it pulls away. So, I use the other half of the return ticket to get back to the RLI, and sit in the A&E department waiting room for an hour, trying to ignore the self-titled 'Glorious Goodwood' that's on the TV there.

Did you know that one third of A&E visits are alcohol-related?

Eventually, the patient recovers and I get home. I check LiveJournals, and notice something on Aethelthryth's blog that I hadn't spotted the last time I read that particular post: "If you live in Sheffield you will know the most recent events of my life but I don't want to post them on here for legal reasons."

Cue an email, asking for an explanation of the legal reasons. Get told to phone at 5pm. Do so. The conversation, which I won't go into here, for the same legal reasons, comprised mostly of me saying, "Fucking hell," "Fuck," "Jesus," "Seriously?" and "Jesus fuck..." But overall, it seems like things are looking up for Aethelthryth (God, I hate typing that name - I can never get it right, bloody Anglo-Saxons...).

So, two dramas in the same day, and both of them resolve themselves. The day could have been worse.

Oh, and I've started talking to myself.


P.S. Does anyone else think it's fucking rude to get rung up by a telemarketing firm, only to pick up the phone and realise that it's a recorded message, saying that they'll put me onto one of their operators?

Fuck you. If you're going to call me, out of the blue, in the hope that I'll pay attention to a word you're planning to say to me, you fucking making the effort to show me some fucking courtesy! The default state for someone who's been cold-called is, "No, sorry, not interested." The telemarketer's job is to turn that into a, "So, what's it all about then?" You're not going to get that if, when I say, "Hello?" all I get is a recorded voice. Fuck you. If you're not going to put the effort in, you can fuck off.

Oh my god, I'm turning into Warren Ellis...