// Guest post by Jay Stern who lives in London//
Last week I survived a storm. Not a big deal? Well, humour me. In England, the most extreme weather we’re accustomed to is when wind and rain combine to turn umbrellas far and wide inside out. So an actual storm with a name was a pretty big deal. The storm was called Doris. Who names these things? And why do they choose names that aren’t acceptable to humans under the age of 89?
I mean as far as global extreme weather goes storm Doris was as gentle in nature as the kind 89-year-old she was named after. But someone did die after being hit on the head with a Starbucks roof tile. That’s not meant to be funny by the way, it’s just an actual fact. So it was, like kind of bad. Definitely, the worst weather England has seen in recent history.
Why am I telling you this? Because storm Doris has forced me into financial disrepute!
I casually made my way home from work last Thursday only to find that my entire garden fence had been ripped from the ground and broken in half. No man has the strength to cause that much damage for no apparent reason. It must have been Doris.
Not the worst thing to happen. But I can’t afford a new fence, and the remains are unsalvageable.
That means I’m going to have to head to a loan company near me to borrow money with an extortionate rate of interest. Just so that my dog doesn’t run wild across both of my neighbours landscaping jobs. Making me even more unpopular than that time I accidentally drove a quad bike through the fence and halfway across Mr Next Doors prize blooms.
I guess I’ll just wave goodbye to my passable credit rating now then.