Sunday 5 August 2012

Ditto

I always have.  Or at least for as long as I can remember.  Maybe it had something to do with being married to a sociopathic clergyman but Sundays are always a dire time.  If I'm going to crack on a diet, it'll be on a Sunday.  Weird.  It used to be the day I did the ironing; you know, ready for the week ahead.  Mind you, I'm cheating now and letting everyone do their own so that chore is out of the way.  Still don't like the day, though.  I suppose if we had spare cash and could do things I might like the day but we don't so...we don't.  


I think I've gone a bit doo-lally in the last twenty-four hours.  I have actually posted on cyberbegging sites.  I didn't even know they existed until I read something about them and just thought, why not?  Tried everything else, or so it seems.  So I've done it.  Hate asking, hate begging (ah, pride, it's a wonderful thing) but there we go. Nothing else is working.  Just for the hell of it I'll post a link, although since I can't see how anyone will find this blog then it follows that the cyberbegging page will be equally as lost in the vastness that is the Internet.  


 ww.gofundme.com/American-Dream-Fund


There we go.  


I know things aren't as bad as they could be - heavens we've been there already.  Counting each penny half a dozen times, only having a meal a day, not being able to buy even charity shop clothes let alone things that are actually new, but sometimes I get so tired of fighting.  


Mark, my husband, believes in karma.  I don't.  Sorry, but.  He's a decent, sweet man who's had some very hard knocks, I was married to my ex-husband (should be reason enough there to get some sort of gong, let alone a break). Always done my best, never tried to cheat, steal or lie (lousy at the latter anyway.  Not enough practice).  Damn, I'm even the sort of person who tries not to step on ants!  I mean, can I be any drippier?  So I haven't saved the world (cape in wash) and I know most definitely that peace will not be in our time but I don't try to screw people over either. Yet, here we are.  Worrying about money, not having a life - this is as close as we get - getting older and dreams fading.  Grrrr.


I mean, is there really something so terrible in wanting to find a corner of the US where we can live, grow a few things, cultivate mild eccentricities and try to make a living?  There must be because no matter what we do nothing works.  Such a bummer.  I'd sulk, but what would that achieve?


My ex, Simon, is up to something.  Don't know what but there is something.  Mind you, he's always up to something.  A regular schemer.  Saw Flavia (daughter.  Almost 16.  Not quite your typical teenager although she has her stroppy moments) yesterday and gave her toiletries that he's been holding onto since she last went to see him (2+ years ago).  Half used soaps, bin-able toothbrushes, things like that. Maybe Howard (his friend) has got tired of him leaching off him; I mean, he went to live at Howard's for a few weeks and stayed three years and counting.  Poor Howard.  So, either he's going back to East Sussex (he loves it there.  Natural home.  He loathes Wales, something I don't understand but there we go) or maybe he has actually got a job somewhere like Dubai.  You know, somewhere the CSA can't chase him (although why he should worry I don't know - his child support works out at about £1.50/day and decreasing since he doesn't pay it).  We'll see.  Just wish we could blow a raspberry at the lot of them and have our own little place somewhere.


It's not as though Mark and I don't try.  We do.  I can't work (ill health) but I try writing - even got books on Amazon but how on Earth do you let people know they're there?  They aren't badly written (I've read far, far worse) but they languish.  Unloved.  And Mark paints.  http://mark-fluharty.artistwebsites.com/.  See?  He's always trying to work out money-making schemes but at the end of the day you need lucre to make it. And we don't have it. Not even the proverbial bean.  I'm definitely going to sulk.


Well, enough navel-gazing.  After all, I'm the only one who'll see this thing...could be fun.  All my darkest thoughts on here...just a shame I don't really have any.  Damn.

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