I love summer, I really do. But I think I would be able to love summer to its fullest if I didn't sweat out three litres of perspiration every time I climbed into my car. Air con is the way forward. Fan vents just don't cut it.
"Here we go, let's move all this hot air around, shall we? Turn up the speed of the fan... we'll move the hot air faster!"
Speaking of karretjie, I got my radiator fixed (turned out to be a very cracked water pump). I also got the window winder fixed. Hooray for me not having to climb out of my car when arguing with parking attendants at Rosebank. I got my car back yesterday, and then realised that my handbrake isn't working, and the warning light for the brakes was eyeballing me from the dashboard.
This vehicle is literally falling apart every time I shut the door.
So, I dropped off my car (for the second time this week) this morning and then forgot about it. I booked my routine wax appointment with my Jewish 4-foot-something monster of a beautician for 1pm. Come 12:45 I started scratching around for my car keys, which were obviously sitting at the garage. This resulted in me treating my colleagues to a "fuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK!" stomping fit.
A quick emergency call to my Boet (what a treasure) ensured that I picked up my car and was on my way to have hotter-than-hot wax tipped over sensitive parts of my body.
Waxing done, I got into my now baking hot car and headed over to badly-ventilated Home Affairs to collect my passport that is finally ready. HOORAY! Of course, just because I was there, what usually takes 10mins (in, passport collected, out) - took 40 minutes. Yes, I'm taking this personally - the gods of chaos do these things to me on purpose.
The three people in front of me were all from agencies and the very clever person behind the till was not big on multitasking.
Take receipt. Study it. Type into computer. Study receipt. Study computer. Study object recently removed from left nostril. Walk away. Walk back. Check name. Work out alphabet on fingers. Flip through passports. Check name AGAIN... Locate passport. Hand passport across. Next receipt.
Oh my shattered g-string. Applicants for IDs were moving faster, and that really is saying something.
But I got my renewed passport... I am one step closer to my non-existant visa. Hoo-fukking-ray!