£84 Million!

Someone won £84 million this week on the lottery. I think we all day dream about 'what if' what if we bought a ticket and then won. Do you imagine it? I do. there is something so improbably and gloriously idle about the idea of winning vast amounts of money, no work, just spend £1 in the newsagents and BINGO, no more worries.
I'm not sure that last part is true though because if I had woken up on saturday and discovered that I now had £84 million, I am pretty sure that I would be terrified. What on earth would you do with all that money? What a huge responsibility that kind of money would be.
When I indulge in the 'what would I do?' dream, I start off, as everybody does by paying off all debts of my family, no mortgages, no loans left for anyone. I buy a huge plot of land or an entire street of glorious houses and we all live close to each other but in our own homes ( thankyou very much!) I vary in where these homes will be depending on how much imaginary money I have won that week. Sometimes modest homes, sometimes great big estates with land and titles!
I imagine emailing friends and telling them that they can choose a home or pay of the one they have, I pay for school for people who want to further careers, I set up childrens' homes in foreign countries, pay for IVF for people desperate for babies.
My favourite part of my dream, after all the lavish and fun get togethers that I will host for imaginary internet friends, is the part where I search for people who need a break. I imagine walking around town looking at families who are obviously trying but need a break. I imagine finding people like us, who are happy, who have all the important things in life but who need a boost and then I just hand it to them. I imagine having the wherewithal to say to people "look, here's this house, it is safe and clean and has everything you need, you can live there for as long as you care for it, you can call it your own, make it yours and the rent is such that you will be able to pay without being afraid but will appreciate what you have and take care for it."
I like dreams, I like that you can choose them and change them, I love the way they make you feel. I like how they make ME feel.
I think though, that my 'what if' dream wouldn't be winning £84 million. Mine is usually 3 or 4 £million. I dream of enough to buy a reasonable house with a garden, a safe house where Elijah can play without escaping, a house built well enough that it won't need constant repairs. I don't mean a mansion because really, too big and too grand would mean too much upkeep and even when I dream I am practical.
I 'need' about £300,000 for my absolute dream house. Imagine having enough to buy a dream house but not enough to do that and share your luck with those you love. That's no fun is it? So £2 million would do for me. I'm not greedy at ALL am I?
I would even be happy to be able to rent my dream house if it meant I would never ever have to move again. If the winner of that £84 million should read my blog and decides that s/he will invest in property, can you buy a nice 4 bedroom house with a big garden and high walls, here in my town please and let me rent it forever? I will look after it and love it and promise not to bother you with minor worries. No leaking, damp or rats and I'll be forever pathetically grateful. Thankyou.
The rats are back here. I can't stand to go into details again because it's more of the same, it's as stressful and miserable as it ever was before, just somehow more hopeless.
Dreaming of winning the lottery is just that, it is dreaming, it picks me up and lifts me out of this situation quickly, without having to make plans that mean thinking years ahead.
I know that for me, the real way out of this is to plan long term. It's unavoidable and it's daunting. The plans and ideas I have aren't even a sure fire way of getting us a new life. They are the only ones I have though so that's where I am heading. While I start on the road, when I am fighting and straining and working along the way, I will indulge in a few dreams of the 'what if' variety because somehow they make it all seem easier.
I will also ask myself why some people DO get the 'what if' for real and wonder how they find that when it happens, if it is as miraculous as we all imagine or if it actually terrifying. Oh wouldn't it be kind of great to find out for ourselves?

Hoorah and bugger it.

Hoorah. Laptop is mended and on it's way home with a new something board and all working and splendid.
Bugger it. Stupid, stupid people who messed up my benefits did not straighten their mess out and so the rent was not covered ....big mess in the bank account, gaping holes where money should have been.
Hoorah...had the money to pay into the account and get the rent paid.
Bugger it. It was my spending money for Boston, I now have enough to pay the hotel and eat and if I am very clever, maybe buy a few tiny gifts for the boys' Christmas.
Hoorah. There is a chance that I can get it straightened out before thursday.
Bugger it...the chance is pretty slim.

On a separate note I began exercising yesterday ( I know, hell's teeth!) small start but goodness me it hurts! I am not going to say what I am doing until I am better at it. I will say that when the pooh hit the fan today and I sunk into despair at having, yet again rob Peter to pay Paul (and Peter was so looking forward to just forgetting all the scrimping and saving just for a few bloody days ) I did not resort to eating the grumpiness away...I actually did a little exercising instead
( who IS this person? WHO?) while my laptop has been away I felt strange sitting here in the evenings without it in front of me, I was restless so every evening I have been making things and writing cards etc. It's been really very good for me, I am going to be making and doing more from now on.
More and more I see food as something that is there to keep me going so I can do what I want and need to do, less as something that I crave or need to think about all the time. Often mealtimes arrive and I find that I have to make myself eat, it would be very easy to skip meals but I am so afraid of halting what is working for me that I eat. It is incredible to me that I can feel like this and I really want for this to be how I feel from now. Always before, doing this has been about getting thin, and this time of course I long for that but it is so much more, it's about feeling differently. It's about not being ruled by anything, about being in control. Heaven knows I want to be in control of something in my life, the rest of it is one big helter skelter of who knows what's going to happen.
I was so worried about Eli today, for a week or two he hasn't been eating, saying his tummy hurts after a couple of bites of food. He has been himself in every other way, happy and busy but just not eating much. This evening he was the same and after a hair cut and a bath, Seth said " Hey, Elijah is actually really fat!" which seems a strange thing to say about Eli, who is anything but fat...but his belly was really distended, hard as a rock and he looked every bit like a little starving baby. Then he has the worst diarrhoea , 2 or three times, his poor little tummy. After that he was as right as rain, he said his tummy didn't hurt anymore and it did look less bulgey. The doctor didn't seem concerned and said that as he was otherwise well to just watch him and see how he is tomorrow. He just seemed so little to be that uncomfortable and I saw just how small we all are in the scheme of things. I really hope this isn't a rotten bug that is about to knock into us all, the timing stinks as much as the poop if it is! On the other hand, I hope it IS just a bug and that Eli is better when he wakes up.
All in all it's been a pretty shitty day all things considered. It's nearly over and I am glad about that!
I shall be at the council offices again as they open on monday and I will be the squeaky wheel that gets the oil, or the rent cheque in this case. I went at 8.30 on monday to make sure that this very thing didn't happen and was assured that it would all be fine, amazing how they can stop the money in a heartbeat but cannot ever seem to rectify the mistakes they make in less than 2 weeks isn't it? Amazing and unbelievably annoying.

Oh and Hoorah...I have such great friends, in 4 days now I will be with them in Boston.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr.........Hahahahahahaha

I wonder if I can start taking the diazepam NOW? Yes? That seems like a fantabulous idea to me. I need them, desperately in fact. Not for my sake you understand, more for the safety of those around me. I am surrounded by people who have no idea how close they are to getting a slap, or punch or just their heads ripped off and thrown to the wolves.
Excuse me while I rant, but honestly either I am REALLY good at hiding just how annoyed I am at being the ONLY person to be doing a damned thing towards this bloody holiday, H is on another planet or he just doesn't give a toss.
Guess which one I think is the correct answer. Yes. You're right.
H's contribution to the whole thing is to make sure I know he wants it and to tell me, when it's too late, how I COULD/ SHOULD have done something better.
He has this little thing where he likes his family to think we are living a whole different life than the one we are actually living. If asked if we need any help....of COURSE not, my goodness, imagine that, its all organised, haven't had to give it a thought, which in his case is true.
Thanksgiving is for H, do I give a stuff about cooking enormous turkey dinners 4 weeks before I have to do it again? Pttttttttth. H needs it, the plan always used to be that H did thanksgiving and I do Christmas. Somewhere along the line, that stopped and I do both , this year, oh what a laugh we had when the turkey was off....what a hoot to have to go out and but bits of turkey that ended up costing as much as the whole big one. Hysterical, even funnier when grandpa called to ask if we had enough cash for the whole shebang and Haha, of COURSE we do, it's all covered, don't give it another thought.
If there were anyway I could back out now and give up on the whole idea I would, no kidding I would. Should someone offer me my money back, I'd grab it. Wth both hands.
I really hope it WILL be worth it. I hope that my gut feelings are wrong, that when we are there it will STILL be my holiday, it will STILL be me who gets to do it all. I have a sneaking suspicion that I might become less front line. I hope that I don't become as invisible as I used to be when we lived there.
I hope that my wishes are heard and I tell you now, if we have ONE occasion where it is suggested that I stay behind with a child/ the children because it is late, there is not enough room in the car/van/ peoples' lives for me, there will be a scene of such magnitude I won't need to blog about it...you'll read it on the news!
I say this because when Isaac was very little and he screamed a lot, a WHOLE lot, I took him, one day, for a short walk to calm him down. When I got home, everyone- EVERYONE, grandpa, H, H's brother, his kids, H's first son and Seth had gone. Hmmmmm where on earth? 2 hours later they came back with a doggy bag ( of their leftovers) they had all been for lunch and assumed that I wouldn't want to go because Isaac was so unsettled. Not one person had mentioned a possibility of lunch out before I went for my 15 minute walk, it is as though they waited for me to leave and then said QUICK! RUN! she'll be back any minute LET'S GO!!!
Unforgivable at the time..unforgotten til this day , shall I tell you why? Shall I???
IT WAS MOTHER'S DAY!!!!!
Yes, exactly.
So, when my guts twist at the thought that at some stage of this holiday that I have all but killed myself to arrange, organise and pay for, on my own, I will be made to feel like an annoying tag along. It is not without good reason.
I can tell myself how far we have come since those days back in the land of the miserable and homesick. We have come a long way but not as far as I would like. I am so afraid of being made to feel shitty again that I over control and don't give H or anyone a chance of screwing up. I don't ask him to do anything for fear of him not wanting to do it and show me he cares.
I don't give him the chance to organise anything because I might want to kill him if he lets me down.
If I continue talking about this my head my explode, it is the way it is, 10 days and we'll be there. If only I could just shut my head off and find £150 under my pillow.
Shall I tell you what has made my whole life brighter? What has given me DAYS of teenagerish giggling and snorting?
I was reading this blog http://www.motherhooduncensored.typepad.com/ and she has complied a list of gifts women really WOULD like for Christmas, as opposed to a sweater, or frying pan etc.
Well, in all innocence I clicked on it and oh my goodness, there is a thing on there called an OMiBod ( or something) a personal massager ( you get my drift, it is not for the aching necks among us) that you plug your iPod into and it vibrates to the beat of your tunes. For heavens sake.
Not only that but because I was already there, I had a look ( or 12) at some of the other items. Can you believe there is one that you plug your cell phone into. Yes, your cell phone, when your cell phone rings, you get a buzz. It has a handy 3ft freedom flex. WHOOHOO 3ft to wander around ( do the ironing perhaps?) while you wait for your cell phone to ring. Well, how sexy would that be, let's face it? Wires and phones and waiting for the phone to ring, maybe one time you wouldn't mind a wrong number, or 23.
I would be waiting a long time. The only person to call me on my cell phone is Sophie, to yell and shout and tell me her woes. What would I do with that? Tlak about contra-effective, RiiiiiiiiiiinG oooooohhhh, Ugh Sophie....blargh.
Would I be lying with my cell phone in one hand, my landline in the other and keep calling myself? Hang up, call again......does it all seem like a lot of hard work to you?
Should a telesales person call, what then? " Oh, sorry..you're breaking up, could you call me again ( please) would s/he then think you were way more excited about the thought of the personal loan than most other customers?
That traffic cone thing? Should I feel pride that this an English invention? What kind of minds are thinking these things up? Are their lives lacking something perhaps?
I think I may have spent way longer thinking about this than is probably sensible but honestly? It has been such a source of light relief for me, it has made me laugh for days.....I know, I should definitely get out more!
All kinds of stuff to do today and I don't feel like doing any of it. Maybe I won't. PPPTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHH, now, where's my cell phone?

All in a day.

We had the parent teacher consultations today. I never know how I feel about these. With Isaac, they seem to be unnecessary as we are in constant contact with his teacher, we make sure we check his reading diary and it takes such a while to get him in the classroom every morning ( get there early so he doesn't have to deal with crowds, put his lunch on the lunch shelf, hang his back pack up, put his reading bag in the right drawer, choose a reading book and sit and read, say goodbye, take him back in again and say goodbye again, peel him off my arm, reassure him that afternoon maths is a OK, he will be fine, P.E is on tuesday and thursday, YES tuesday and thursday, every week, yes. Every week, even this week, P.E is fun, you like P.E, must go back in because the bell has gone and YES I will come and get you at 3.30. PLEASE, go back in. I love you too. Bye, bye.........bye Isaac, well done...bye bye) So you see, what can they tell me that I haven't already picked up? Oh that he takes 40 minutes to write one sentence that is 3 lines long? Cute. HE is writing,hoorah,writing used to be scary thing and we will not do it, 40 minutes to write three lines without any spaces or punctuation? Brilliant, happy me.
Seth.....funny little boy. Quite brilliant. Above average in most things, needs to practise writing his numbers and speeding up a bit. Ever the perfectionist, he is slow and steady and will not rush for anyone, nuh uh, he wants it right and he wants it in his own time. We spoke about the fact that he is by far the youngest in the year, can read beautifully and then Mr teacher said " and then his spelling" to which I replied " ahh, that's another matter" Mr teacher's head shot up and he said " No! Actually he is really good..look" and he showed us a chart with all the kids on it.......we were so busy mentally high fiving and thinking 'NA NA NA NA NA' that neither if us thought to ask how many words they were checked on but there was our boy with the number 136 next to his name, the nearest number to his was 116. Highest in the year, brilliant boy. Genius boy with no front teeth because at LAST they fell out this lunchtime, how cute he looks and sounds with his gappy smile and lispy voice.
And be still my heart, just went in ( 1.30am) because the teeth are under his pillow and the fairies have to come, he is 7, soon fairies? Pah! Kneeling on the floor trying to sweep under the pillow for those teeny tiny teeth.....he stirred and said " They haven't even been yet?"
" Who? The fairies? Tut tut, where did you put the teeth?"
"Under my pillow....."
" Let me see....."
Lifted pillow and he felt the envelope with £2 in.....grabbed it and fell right back to sleep with the biggest grin on his tiny little face. Moments like those are what makes life worth living.
So, good boys both, nice evening except it dragged on so. Out of school at 3.30 Mac Donalds for tea, back to school for a round of basketball, Isaacs appt. at 5.30, Seth's at 6.......time went very slowly I tell you, apart from the eating time because they just about inhaled that and we were in and out in record time just as we wanted to take at least an hour!
The rest of the day was an arse of a day, one of those I am trying not to get used to, bloody hell kind of day that made me weep and hiccup and wail and swear and get absolutely nowhere apart from realising that we are in our own in this housing thing. Boring boring for you all. Worrying for us here. Nothing we can do. Endless red tape and stupid unhelpful people that have made things so much worse for us and then left us hanging.
All I can do is try and shut it all out, try and think of our holiday ( that now is fast becoming something else to worry about as our money is reduced again and again and now we have this big deal that we have committed to so far that we have to carry on, but honestly? Bitten off way more than I can chew on that one, planned and organised when we were living on £750 more a month than we are now.)
I am thinking and planning and trying to come up with a way to make things better and have the holiday back to an exciting thing to think about. More work. My skin flared up again today. Legs, arms, hands all vivid red and itchy and just the last straw really. Give me a break. Please.
I did fall into a coma like sleep on the sofa at some stage this evening, must have been earlyish, woke at 11pm all alone, H had gone to bed, am all stiff where I was lying funny. I do love a good snooze though. Naps are impossible during the week at the moment as School starts at 8.50, Eli is out at 11.30, boys out at 3.30. Not long enough in between the various drop offs, getting home and having to leave for the pick ups, for me to curl up in my glorious bed and sleep. If I take a nap I have to do it properly, PJs on, dark, quiet and leave me alone for 3 hours, anything less and I don't bother trying as it makes me so GRUMPY!
I can't believe that Elijah will be at school, big school, in his uniform, from January. Where did the time go? I think that when he starts school it will be time for a big shake up at home too. I am trying so hard to get past all the things that worry me, I want to be able to take control of our lives and get into a situation where I am in control. I am tired of my whole life being run by faceless people who can make me so miserable.
What can a woman do who has spent 22 years at home raising children? What a CV ( resume) I have to present!! Oh dear. What can a 45 year old nervous wreck do to support a family? I am sure there is someone out there who would love to pay me to enrich their lives, what do you think? Yeah, me too.

"Oh bugger " said the camel.

You remember I had to go for a medical review, and went 5 hours early, told doctor don't give a toss excuse me while I chat on the phone about the price of replacement tyres for my posh car about what a complete lunatic I am, bared my soul ( though not my bosoms, they are kept for young and handsome technician type people) and told him how shopping takes a while because I must talk to myself the whole time and avoid things like queues and people who may talk to me? Explain how I go to sleep at 3am and get up at 7am and spend all day telling myself that I won't put a hosepipe through the window of the car today because maybe things well get better tomorrow, ( I suspect that's what did it, I am obviously way too positive and forward thinking for a truly depressed person) Anyway, today I got a letter saying that I failed the medical, therefore all benefits have been stopped, from now, as in today or even yesterday because I got the letter today and it was over at the barn so the benefits people probably got theirs yesterday saying that I am fit and well and completely normal.
Snap went the camel's back.
I can appeal ( and I will, as soon as I stop hyperventilating and crying and heaving with fear) and while we appeal our money will be reduced by 20%. So, the govt works out how much ( little) we need to live on, then we get that much, so now we get 20% less than we need and if we win the appeal we get back the money they withheld. Eventually. within 6 months.
I have been metaphorically whistling with my fingers in my ears for the past 2-3 months, telling myself that we can do this, it will be OK we will have a holiday and then I will worry about everything, it all works out in the end after all, doesn't it?
No, it doesn't. Not for me, it sometimes looks like it might be alright, just long enough for me to start thinking that this time, well yeay, we got a break...then just as I almost believe it........here we go again.
I have been deemed medically incapacitated for 4 years, during those years things have not improved for me, rather, they have become worse. I get on and somehow muddle through and almost always try to see the positive. I have my dreams and I have my disappointments, don't we all?
I am sure that I will be able to prove my inability to work a full time job and hang on to the teeny bit of sanity I have left. I am sure that eventually I will be able to show that I am not a parasite on the british government. In the meantime, we are faced with yet more stress and even more worry, also the very real possibility that the money I have paid for the holiday will be lost and the ability to repay my mum the money she lent us to book the holiday at the great price will be a very tough call indeed. ( But I will, somehow, I will mum)
I have to send in a letter of appeal, when they get that they will decide what happens next ( and we all know they will decide very slowly, in their own sweet time because, why hurry?) Naturally, no-one has ever contacted my doctor, the one I see every 2 weeks at least just to get through the life that is thrown my way. Too easy you see, we get sent to a doctor who has never seen us before and he asks some set questions without looking up from his clip board. He then sends in a check list ( yes, she can dress herself and watch a TV show, fit for full time work, next please)
I think maybe I could work, maybe even enjoy a full time job...if I didn't have to worry about where we are going to live in 3 months, how soon Isaac will start talking at school again, if Sophie will ever be safe from her demons, if I can ever manage to go shopping for an hour without digging holes in my fingers, if I can drive further than 5 miles without having a panic attack so huge that I plan my own funeral....well maybe getting a job would be lovely.
My doctor just called, bless her heart.....she is writing a cover note for me to send with my letter of appeal. She is willing to tell them in no uncertain terms that I am actually bordering on certifiable ( always borderline, why not actually certifiable, here we go with the dreams of nice drugs and a comfy padded room) She suggested buying a lottery ticket, she said that honestly, something is surely about to turn and sod's law says a win is in the cards. Then she got all professional again and said sorry for being so flippant. She is a very nice Doctor. I like her very much.
So, there we have it. Snap goes the camel's back and Bugger said he.

Lottery shmottery.

All over the place today, my head that is, flip flopping from one thought to another. Bad weather is never good for me, makes me sink into a pit of dreary thoughts and feelings of no hope. Oh my, the rain, will never be sunny again. life is over, there is no hope......blargh!
Actually sundays make me feel like that a bit too, how awful to admit that the Lord's day is anything but uplifting and joyful.
I am restless and so keen to get on with the move, to get in and make that house home.
Why though? I am beginning to feel that I might dig in my heels and just stay there, squat, take on the world and tell the powers to be that they better get me a house or I am locking the doors and waiting to be thrown out. How's that sound to you? Can you picture it? I might get into the papers as the woman who finally snapped. A family photograph with me looking more than slightly insane, hair madder than Mary's, eyes staring ahead in a hopeless gaze, pitchfork ( or at the very least a broom handle) in hand ready to fight off the ne'er do wells intent on making me pack another box and haul myself to another home for sale, all the while surrounded by my concerned looking family. I dream ( in a nightmarish kind of way) about cleaning stoves. I have those dreams many times a night where I am falling off a step ladder...WHOOP jump, awake, ahhh not real, am safe in bed, ahhhh zzzzzzzzzzz WHOOP.....hell's teeth go back to sleep!
This week we are going to clean the carpets and make them smell beautiful ( and look nicer, of course) then we will start taking over our many worldy possessions and begin, again, the task of setting them out to make the house a home. I quite like doing that but the novelty might be wearing off.
I don't know if it helps me having so many people tell me how hard they know this is for me, hearing that this is REALLY unfair of our landlady and that really she is getting one hell of a deal with our working on her houses and selling them. It helps in that I find myself explaining that although it is hard, it's not the worst thing I could be facing, I convince myself that this is OK. This time though, it is not looking OK, the phone company want a huge amount of money to connect the new house, if we don't pay it, no phone which isn't the end of the world, no internet which would be pretty damn close to it. It doesn't help in that when you hear it so many times, you begin to believe it and well..what can we do?
3 months is not long enough to be handing over large amounts of money, it is way too long to go without internet and a phone. Can we stay there longer? Who knows? I am tempted to tell the landlady that we will pass on the long term let because I HATE THAT HOUSE! Also, then we can say that we will just risk staying in the house until it sells....with our luck that would mean an extra week, could mean much longer.
I wish my head would just allow me to worry about the next 2 days and just let the rest go, who knows what will happen in a month, year, lifetime?
I bought a lottery ticket this week, that's how desperate I am. Didn't win of course because, well, of course.
I would be terrified if I DID win, but if I could get a wish, it would just be for a house that I can stay in, 3 bedrooms and a garden, right here. A set of keys that does not have a duplicate copy in some landlords pocket.
I am on the edge, I really am, I had this weird heart thing last night where honest to goodness, it felt as though I had 2 hearts in my chest, the regular
de- dum , beat and in the middle an extra fuddump, de- fuddump-dum.
Any cardiologists reading this? Diagnose me please, make me well. Any shrinks reading? I wouldn't bother, there is no hope.
My girl is in town, Dan called to say she was coming and when I didn't hear from her, I called Jordan who says she is here and that she looks beautiful, also that 'she even speaks differently' I will see her tomorrow and take some pictures and enjoy some time with her. She has 2 days off, she told Dan that she was afraid to come down because she felt that her life was so different now, that she actually has a life....I hope that she can have fun here and have many people tell her how great this new life is for her, that they don't try and talk her into coming back. I am so afraid all the time, of everything. If only I could just enjoy the good when it is here.
I feel as though my life is one big " I wish". PPPPTTTTTTTHHHHHHHH. Where's that damn Genie?

So, not so bad. Or is it?

We got the keys to the next house. ( is it me or are just those 2 words frightening all on their own? Next. House. simple words yet holding so much meaning and work and STRESS and moving and cleaning and .......) We went and had a good old wander around without anyone else there.

So, good that it isn't as filthy as I first saw, painted magnolia and not too many dints and holes.

Bad that it is still filthy.

Good that it isn't so huge that it will take way too much to run.
Bad that the bedrooms are smaller than I am used to and our bed is BIG and COMFY and nothing, absolutely nothing will make me get a smaller bed. We may have our bed scrunched in the bedroom without anything else, or it will be under a window ( good in summer, can cope with that).

Good that, um.........hmmmmmm, er, let me see.......

Bad that the cooker has probably never been cleaned and has been used a LOT to cook saucy and dribbling and oozing and black things. Also is very close to the floor, in fact when you open the door, it rests on the floor, how extraordinary and stupid.

Very bad that the shower seems not to work and bizarre in its similarity to the cooker in that it appears to have many dribbley, oozing and black things in it, black is the colour scheme for kitchen and bathroom in a dirty, slimy sort of way.

You know ( and a whine coming here, brace yourselves, I am weeping, it could get depressing) I get moments where looking on the bright side is so bloody hard.
I CAN see the potential this house has and if we were moving there forever, if it was ours or long term, I would scarcely blink at the work that is ahead of us but we will be there just long enough to do the work for someone else and then we have to move to a house that I would never choose in a million years. Another house that is being trashed by the madman that lives there right now. That will need work, that we will inevitably have to do because we have no choice.
We walked around and enthused to the boys and I won't lie, I did see the good and it has a pretty nice feel to it, the cleaning and the scrubbing will be a bugger but we can get help and it will be done before we move in.
Repairs have been made in true our landlady fashion, walloping lumps of wood stuck over gaping holes in doors, a bit of a wipe over with some cheap paint, or not, and we're good to go.
I want, for once in my life, to feel worth something.
When we moved here I felt that.
Look at me!!
I can have something nice and even better than nice.
12 days. That's how long that lasted and it cost us £1.000 to move here, has cost a lot to live here but it has been worth every penny, just to have the feeling that we are indeed deserving of the niceties of life.
I am ill again and that makes me sad. Being sad makes me sad. I have medicines to take and we hope that I can feel better and be able to deal with the enormous load that I feel I am having to bear right now.
I am so proud of Sophie, it is such early days and she is doing so well. The proof that she is doing well is tough for me though. For example...today she called and was steaming mad.

" I HAVE HAD IT. ENOUGH.
IWANNASCREAMINHERFACEFUCKYOU!ANDGETTHEHELLOUTOFHERE...
but then, I would get the sack."

CONSEQUENCES, she GETS IT! She is learning but my poor heart when my ears here that screaming and ranting and temper. She was tired and had been working a long day, her immediate boss had taken her back to some rooms to show her what she hadn't done ( uh oh).

~*breathe in*~
I explained that if she were to walk into a room and think to herself " if this was my room , if I had just arrived for a stay and paid £90 for a night, what would I want it to be like?" and then make the room look like that. To try and remember that these people were paying a considerable sum to stay there and that every one of them wanted to walk into a room and be wowed. If the free shampoo is missing, if the bin doesn't have a bag in it.....well it does matter to that guest.
I wonder if she heard me. I called her back later and she was happier.
~*exhale*~

My blood pressure is 135/115, my skin is one big itching welt, with a few blisters thrown in.
I have been having what the Dr thinks are Esophageal spasms. Not fun, sudden, tight pains in my chest that make me retch and my head goes light ( if only it would work on my arse and hips) my hands go numb and when that happens at 70 miles per hour on a motorway......bit scary really. She ( my doctor) held my hands today and scooted her chair so that her knees were touching mine and she said, " Please, will you please look after yourself" and you know, I really would, except when should I do that? What can I put down, so that I can be kind to myself and make me all better? It isn't as though I don't want to look after myself. I really do, but if I let one thing go, we could have that domino effect and then life would really be a barrel of laughs.
I did book the holiday ( did I tell you that? I would go and check but really......can't be bothered) so I did, and I paid everything stupid girl quoted me, trouble is she did her sums all wrong and darn it if she shouldn't have said £3265 plus insurance ( £228) not £2450. I still booked it because it is the one single thing that is keeping me this side of plucking my hair out with clenched fingers and humming with my lips pinched together.
So now I have to find that extra £1043, minus insurance ( £228) because I paid that ( Happy birthday H) and pay back mum, which is fine, I can do it and don't tell too many people, but I already squirreled some of that way already. It will all be paid and paid back, I hope by the middle of October. It will be very hard but somehow, I think that will make the holiday even more glorious.
Lets face it, by the time we have moved again, twice, faced whatever the next 4 months has to throw at us, the very idea of 3 weeks of sunshine, having my bed made every day, no cooking, no dull shopping for bread and toilet paper....the holiday will be glorious. I absolutely plan on holding my doctors hand and having her understand how terrified I am of flying and watching her print off a script for lovely, mellowing, don't give a monkeys nuts drugs, that I will hug and not share and take 30 minutes before we board. Fly me.

Oh, I have stopped weeping by the way, just in case you were worrying, I have cleaned my glasses that were spotty from tears and am feeling fuzzy and relaxed ( medicine, prescribed and quite marvellous, even itching has stopped. H and I have our meds in a plastic ice cream tub, up high in a cupboard even Eli the ape can't reach. I told him with not a little pride that if I am prescribed one more drug, I shall need my very own ice cream tub.)
Ha. Giddy heights at the age of 45.
At least I don't have one of those weekly meds deals that you have to sit and dole all your tablets into so you don't forget any ( H does, but he is so much older than me, 48 today, although he says he doesn't go in for all that birthday malarky anymore, which is handy because he means it, as long as he has a nice dinner he is birthdayed and happy, ideal especially as Isaac is 6 tomorrow, we saved all our singing and cards for him. Hooray.)
I think the new tablets might be a good thing, I called the boys little shits yesterday and said if they stood on the bloody table once more I would have to break their legs.
Not good in itself, the fact that they looked at me as if I was a perfidious headcase and carried on about their business ( standing on the table and making fart noises) made me realise that perhaps I have been making too many idle threats lately and should work on getting with some programme or other ( nanny 911 or super nanny? who can tell, much of a muchness in my honest opinion, wonder what Nanny Deb would make of me and my empty threats of extreme violence? Jo from super nanny would, I strongly suspect, sit me in a corner, get down on my level and tell me that this is not asseptable behaviour, to which I would have to reply that when she had actually given birth to 6 kids, stayed at home with them 24 hours a day for 22 years, without ever tasting an alcoholic drink and then learned to say ACCEPTABLE, instead of asseptable I might listen to her so shut up. Thankyou. )

Oh blast, forgot to have some toast with tablets, now feel a bit sick and heartburny. Always something to spoil the fun.
Still, not so bad after all. Is it?