Bluesday

Tanvir Naomi Bush Disability, Writing 0 Comments

I keep seeing my cat out of the corner of my eye and turn happily to greet her only to find emptiness. It is giving me stomach ache.
I have an urge to head off on another crazy adventure, to just get out of this grief sodden flat… but it is impractical and knuckling under and applying for work is the only way forward. Blast and buggeration. Someone said that applying for jobs, the endless ‘why I am great for the job’ and ‘ in my last job I yadda yadda’ was like detention for grown ups. ‘Tis true but whilst I am waiting to be discovered as the first visually impaired action film icon ( I have my tag line.. not ‘I’ll be back’ but ‘See you Never!!’ as I blast off their heads with my AK47 before triple vaulting off the top of the burning building. Sick and yet contemporary ironic don’tchathink?) and, as I seem to be writing my best selling novel at one page every two months, finding some paid work is the only option. Christmas is coming after all and someone needs to buy my Dad some more fishing gear….
My Mum and her partner J swung around yesterday in their hired camper van. They plan to disappear off around Europe in one next year but after only four days in the Peak District with water and heating problems they were both looking like they needed some s p a c e. It looked rather fun though, like planning a long stay in a Wendy house.

I also extended my volunteer hours at Citizens Advice Bureau today just to keep away from the flat. I am fielding phone calls and almost everyone has problems a great deal worse then then mine… one woman had managed to stoke up over £80,000 worth of debt without telling her husband! Good grief! She seemed quite matter-of- fact about it though…. I guess when you are in at a certain depth there is no point in panicing anymore…either that or she really didn’t like her husband. Either way I got a little more perspective on my own pathetic finances and consquently will buy myself something pretty to celebrate! Makes perfect sense….

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