I wearied of negotiating with a snarling teenager to use the scanner I bought a while ago, and that now lives in her lair.
'Ha', I said, and tossed my blonde hair attractively, looking askance with my violet-blue eyes, their long lashes fluttering in the warm breeze.
I drew on my silken robe and slipped my tiny feet into my crystal driving shoes, picking up the keys of the Bentley from the key-room next to the Georgian parlour with its original cornicing and shutters.
I roared up the North Circular, scattering scrawny chickens and spotty male teenage drivers in souped-up Escorts in my wake, heading for the Church of John Lewis, where the middle classes congregate and worship.
There, I traded a small rectangle of stiff plastic for a shiny new scanner in a huge box (so it looked as though I had bought something much, much bigger!!!), and roared back home to plug it in.
The servants were on their annual holiday in Broadstairs, but after reading the complex instructions I soon heard the exciting sound of technology grunting, and Saw the Light of bright function.
Alas, after placing Roberto Cassani's illustration on the flatbed, the Computer Said No, and I was forced to call the 5-pence-a-minute Hewlett Packard unhelpfulline.
It took 5 minutes to get through , and a faraway voice from a faraway place took a minute to say each sentence, costing me 45 pence just to say 'hello'.
While I was delighted to hear that the faraway person had a name, it took 35 seconds for them to tell me (two and a half pence), and after they had left me on hold for another five minutes because they didn't understand Mac computers (25 pence) I realised I was being taken for a ride, and hung up.
It's a jolly good job I am a millionaire, and also that I have so much spare time to visit the Church of John Lewis, not only to buy the faulty equipment, but also to take it back!
Why, if I had two jobs and an Offsprog to take care of, life might seem a tad difficult.
Excuse me, the butler is running my bubble-bath before he polishes my gold bars; after that, I'm off to Harrods in the Roller to buy a bag of crisps.