I’ve said it often enough: I watch very little TV. At this time of year I can go two weeks without seeing a single programme. I tend to watch it more during the long nights of late autumn and winter.
But at the moment there’s a test match on (that’s cricket, don’t you know) between England and the West Indies, so I want to watch the highlights between 7 and 8pm. And there’s the Monaco Grand Prix on Sunday, which I usually watch. And because it’s a public holiday weekend, there are a couple of other decent programmes on. So guess what. My TV packed up today.
Today is Saturday – the first day of a three day holiday period, which means I won’t be able to call an engineer until Tuesday, which further means that it won’t get it fixed until at least Wednesday, by which time everything will be over. That’s good timing, that is.
I’ve ordered a new one instead. I’ve been meaning to for a couple of months, but never got around to it. I should have, shouldn’t I? Maybe that’s the lesson.