Dear Mother Nature…
I am writing to you today, as I am unable to get through on your 24 hour helpline. I am growing increasingly annoyed due to having been placed on hold countless times, before being connected briefly and then being cut off, as you ensure something else goes a miss, usually in the form of a screaming baby, a shitting vomiting dog, or this morning (thanks for this one by the way) both at the same time. As you are no doubt aware, I then have to hang up my praying hands and call back later. (The middle finger at the sky is unnecessary; i understand that, however it is just a reflex at this point. You go too far sometimes ok?)
And besides, your automated system is awful. Continuously asking me to call back later (Magic 8 ball – seriously? If that is not a copout then I don’t know what is! Who thought of that little triangle of frustration? A MAN! A MAN DID THAT’S WHO! AND YOU MADE THEM TOO!) When later is too late. I need to talk to you right this second! I have looked for an address for your complaints department but am unable to find one, another example of your shoddy workmanship, as of late.
I will not, however, be swept under the carpet like a discarded fish cracker. I will write this letter and I will bloody ensure you receive it on a wing and a prayer. (I will not send it with UPS who seem to LOSE EVERYTHING!!!)
Basically Mother Nature, my complaint goes a little like this.
- I wee when I sneeze.
- I wee when I bend down.
- I wee when I laugh.
This used to amuse me.
TEN MONTHS LATER?!?! Not so much. I am sick of buying Tena Lady. Quite frankly I still feel embarrassed and uncomfortable at the checkout. It’s as though buying Tena Lady gives every checkout/new mother/granny an opening to tell you about how leaky they are too. DO I LOOK LIKE I WANT TO KNOW THESE THINGS?!? I just want to buy my wooden cucumber and chocolate bar (The secret girls guide to a great night in… with the twitter band, OBVIOUSLY) and be done with it!
- I have no control over my fart reflexes and you know as well as I do, I am back at work soon.
I do not need to elaborate on this. JUST STOP OK? Just stop!!!
- I still cry at the Dogs trust advert/anything remotely soppy/tramps and every time ANYTHING sad comes on the telly.
Not good when you are sitting at a friend’s house and Mr lopard (handy frigging Manny) loses his cat (although in fairness it was awful, he was desperate!! Even Addison was wimpering!!) Do you not want me to have friends?? Well don’t you?? Someone asked me if I wanted to sign a petition against child trafficking the other day. It took me 9 minutes to sign it, what with all the tears and wailing about the poor trafficked children. It was for the BODY SHOP! She was way out of her league and kept offering me free lip gloss. (Which I took.)
- My hair is still falling out but now you have added to my embarrassment by growing it back in tufts at the front. I am, against my will growing a mullet. Not a good look on me.
- My stretch marks seem to be going nowhere, I appear to have been run over by a sixteen wheeler, or mauled by a tiger in the dead of night.
- My back is fucked. There is no way of politely putting this. I am like a geriatric. I wince and groan and oof whenever I stand up.
I am 31 for godsake! And now my fingers and wrists seem to be seizing up too!?! What is all that about??
- I have no control of my anger. If I throw the remote/full bottle of milk/poodle at the Irish One, one more time he will leave. (Hopefully. I don’t mean that….. ahem….. oh poor Irish One… here come the tears…. Let me go hug him… poor soldier…. …………………..Wanker said he was too busy for a hug!!!… Ill BATTER HIM!!!.. …..See no control!!)
- Why have you removed my ability to say no to chocolate??
I used to be able to say no?! Now I find myself sweeping my arm along the confectionary aisle in Morrisons. I have no self control!!!
You’re a bitch is what you are.
Forgive my anger and disappointment, but really, I am sure, even you can understand my utter disbelief at these, simply disturbing and horrifying games you seem to be enjoying playing.
So my question to you Mother Nature, are you taking the piss? What happened to the customer is always right? As mentioned previously I cannot express in words my disappointment with your recent service.
And before I go on, please rest assured I have not always felt this way, hence my current disappointment. At one time I found myself in wondrous awe at the magnitude of brilliance you seemed so easily to fulfill.
I have watched trees blow in the wind, snow fall in April, and little lambs playing with their sheepy mothers in May. I have seen kittens take their first steps, watched in awe at waterfalls and all manner of beauty over the last 3 decades. I have constantly respected and sang your praises.
However, at this juncture in my life, I have to ask you again.
Are you taking the piss?
What the hell were you thinking when you created childbirth?
I can’t even enjoy sex anymore.
You ruined that too. I know how it ends.
I am waiting with NO anticipation for your reply. Although I am sure it will come. I am sure you will rain it down on me in your usual un-adultered and tremendous way.
I will not be wearing white trousers tomorrow.
Just so you know!! I am one step ahead of you!!!
So you’ll have to go away and think of some other way to torture me!! I know I am three days late on my cycle, but I know the minute I reach for those white trousers you will ensure it arrives!!!!
I may be unable to poo without wincing, but I ain’t stupid. I see you coming.