So in my continued attempts to become a Responsible Adult, I went to apply for a credit card a couple weeks ago.
Mucho frustrating. The bank won't approve my application because I don't really have a credit record.
Um, yes. I know. I want to build one. That's why I'm applying for a credit card. What, did you think I just wanted some Jimmy Choos?
Stupid recession. (Yes, yes, I know the Credit Act is there to protect our economy. Still.)
Anyway, so got back on the credit horse this weekend, getting my affairs in order, redirecting my cellphone debit order, applying for a woollies account and all that jazz. So hopefully next time I go to visit the Absa Ice Queen (her real name is Bonnie, you'd think she'd be friendlier wouldn't you?) I won't feel like Carrie Bradshaw when the bank tells her she's 'an unattractive candidate for a loan.'
In other weekend news, I put in a day's overtime at work on Saturday. Which actually wasn't so bad, what with the miserable weather making being out and about in Cape Town less than desirable anyway. And it's for a good cause after all – overtime now = accrued in leave = taking leave in December = road trip to Botswana with Boyfriend and six of our friends.
uh huh uh huh uh huh. I know.
Popped to Fat Cactus last night for a quick dinner with Noodle and Darling. Saw some guy get his arm broken in an arm-wrestling match. Saw two thirty-something sisters pole dance on the outdoor umbrellas and get asked by the manager to pay their bill and leave. Ate a whole plate of quesadillas.
All in all, a good Sunday night's entertainment.
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