Pre France trip panic-buying

I love Dunelm Mill. And I also hate Dunelm Mill. After reserving stock on line to be collected WITHIN 3 sodding hours and receiving no text message to say they were ready, off I trotted to store ready to slap someone. I get there, I buy duvet covers and sheets, and pillow cases. All things that are expensive and just a bit kind of 1980’s in France, happy days. Still no text message. The store is heaving, I don’t want to queue for the tills to be told that they don’t have my order ready. I’m near the warehouse door. A member of staff comes out, I politely ask if there’s any chance he can check on the status of my order. In his head he clearly hears “I’d like a handful of Dodo testicles and a Unicorn tear please”. He looks at me like I’ve just crapped in the corner and unsurprisingly tells me he’s no idea how to help and he can’t access the computer before shuffling off back to Mordor. You’ll never get promoted to the tills with that attitude sonny, I think. I try to call them on the phone, it asks you to hold then rings 20 times and disconnects you. This happens twice. Ginger anger level reaching approx 7. I approach another member of staff, willing to assume that warehouse Gollum is a one off. He also looks at me like I’ve crapped in the corner, but is just about to help when a short-arse that can’t reach a top shelf cushion interrupts and steals him. The bitch. He returns and takes me to the tills where someone that does actually know their stuff informs me because I’ve ordered fabric, they only cut that when I arrive, in case I don’t show up. Ginger anger level rising. So, me waiting in all morning was basically for an email that would never come because my order would never be ready!! Secondly despite being told to the contrary by the internet pixies, one of the fabrics wasnt even in stock!!! Gaaaaaaahhhhh!! She looks at me, I look at her. She hastily goes to get my fabric cut as I clearly look like a phsycho. I head into the lift to head up towards kitcheny goodness  and buy, a frying pan, Cheese melting recepticle, butter dish (with chickens on it) a kitchen scale, some stag head door knobs (wardrobe doors…) and impulse purchase – fanfare please – an Actifry! Chips with everything from here on in…. 

As I’m about to head in to the lift to pay for all this stuff that does not fit in my wheely basket thing one bit, someone to the right of me lets out the biggest loudest fart I’ve ever, ever, EVER heard. I look round, others look round, warehouse Gollum probably looks round downstairs. The offender was a bleached thing with crayoned on eyebrows and a pair of knocked off UGGS and made no attempt to hide it or skulk off. Dunelm Mill my friends, shallow end of the gene pool, yet really cheap towels.

Check out my epic haul though! Main picture is my pretty French bedroom curtain fabric. Whadya reckon?

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