This is relevant at this particular time as I'm waiting for a particular manufacturer to send me a host of Republican Romans and Imperial Romans so I can a) e-Bay my existing MRR army and replace with a better looking one and b) crush Russ' early Britons like beetles.
But I can't.
Because I'm still waiting for the package to turn up.
I know it says 'allow 28 days for delivery' but that's just flannel, isn't it? I mean, how long does it take you to shovel a bit of lead into a box and stick a stamp on it? After all, they've had a wodge of my cash in their till for 3 weeks - so why no sign of the goods themselves? It wouldn't work in McDonalds, would it? Pay for your McChicken sandwich and McFlurry and then be told to come back in 3 days when they might be ready.
Now this particular manufacturer is a favourite of mine. We've done business in the past - lots of it - and I know they're a bit busy at present. But Russ ordered his British, from Italy and after I placed my order and his have turned up already and he's started painting them (look out for a blog note on them soon). Meanwhile I'm still waiting for the e-mail to let me know its on its way - never mind them actually turning up on the doorstep.
The anticipation of getting them in your paws, the desire to get them on the table and simply the frustration at not getting them straight away creates an empty feeling inside. Which soon becomes the red mist of anger when what you've ordered hasn't arrived within a a week.
It is quite annoying.
When I say 'quite' I mean 'very'. And when I say 'annoying' I mean 'GIVE ME MY FECKING FIGURES YOU B£$%^&^!!!!