December 06, 2009


Okay, I can kind of relate to Sylvia Plath. Is that a bad thing? Hmmm... thinking it probably is since the woman gassed herself. Wrote some damned good poetry before she shuffled off the mortal coil though, (every time I use that phrase I have a Monty Python 'Dead Parrot' flashback). They should make it a science, like Maureen Lipman said in the BT ads, it could be an 'ology'.

It's a Sunday... I should have been out last night, but wasn't, the usual financial bollocks keeping me prisoner in my own home. That said, between the cat of fail and the insano-dog, I'm kept busy. I miss my daughter a lot at weekends, she's my company. Despite being so similar we're always arguing, she's also damned fun to talk to. She's very sarcastic and quick. I have no idea where she got that from...

I'm no longer going to uni... babysitting child-minding problems, me feeling guilty for not being with my girl etc... I know I should have gone, and I can't think about not going as it's too depressing. The feeling is akin to taking a swig out of that lager can at a party that you thought was yours, but is actually the one that's been used as an ashtray. So now I have to apply for jobseekers allowance, because the government says my child is old enough that I have to seek work. Great stuff... so, erm, where are all these jobs that last from 9.30am to 2.30pm then? I WOULD have had childcare in the form of pine cones, a local after school club, BUT aforementioned government, in their wisdom, closed it down. I mean, I'm not one of those who has the answers to all governmental problems... I need to have several JDs and a like-minded drinking buddy to come up with such works of genius, but come on... take the child care away and make people who need child care go to work? A master stroke, indeed! A master stroke that has all the common sense of a dog which insists that the back of a Korean restaurant is the place it wants to be during peak dining times.

And yes, I know it's not the government's fault that I got pregnant, etc... before all you well to do, 'never had to worry about money' lot start... I paid taxes too honey, and mine weren't ever from a well-paid job. Mine were from average or minimum wage jobs... where you work for people who can't grasp the English language, let alone run places. I recently found myself knocked unconscious due to things in my work environment that weren't risk assessed, which should have been (in this case, an outside staircase which was, as Bon Jovi would say, 'Slippery When Wet'). I called the office to report the accident, after having come to, and thrown up, to be told I'd have to do the rest of my calls that day as they had no-one to cover! Hurrah! Ladies and gentleman, a prime example of a well-run work place. I'm not crybabying... I know people have this stuff all the time, how many times have you thought to yourself, about the people 'in-charge', 'what a bunch of idiots, I could do this better blindfold', or stood on your head, reading a playboy, with a cat hanging off your face, while singing 'Hey Jude'... backwards...

The odd thing is, I'm not a cynic, I'm really not! I'm that annoying person who when you're in the depths will tell you, 'It'll be alright' and then try and fathom a way out of it.. yes, I AM that git. That smiley-faced, bouncy, LOUD, git... the one you want to tell to 'Fuck off'... to leave you alone in your misery. I've had to apply that to myself, after occasionally being let down by the very people I thought I could trust... Meh.

If it aint broke, don't fix it. I can be alone, and while it's not always fun... I do quite like me, which I think is a nice thing to be able to say. I know I can muddle through alone, and because of that, if I do take up with someone, it's because I want to, not because I need to. I watch my back a bit more now... that's true. Let's hope it doesn't hinder anything else I might have, lol, although I do think I'd be quite at home as the old lady who sits in the pub, smelling of piss with her gin and ginger on a Sunday afternoon, before she goes home to watch Songs of Praise. That'll never happen to me though. I don't watch Songs of Praise...

No comments:

Post a Comment