Anyone who has watched as much Aircrash investigation as I have will be able to tell you that it’s not the big things that cause catastrophe but a series of small errors.
A case in point was my oversleeping yesterday which was indirectly caused by my daughters unstable shoe rack. Confused?
On Friday I, in a fit of unaccustomed energy, did all the housework. It is possible to vacuum the whole upstairs in my house without unplugging the cleaner, as it is bijou and compact. Two sockets can accommodate this, one in my bedroom and one in my daughter’s room. However, the socket in my daughter’s room is covered by a very unstable shoe rack. One glance it that direction causes it to collapse and my daughter to have a pink fit. And so I plugged in my bedroom, first removing the plug to my bedside clock. Its not a problem, a simple connection to my iPod resets the time.
Vacuuming done, iPod plugged in, time restored, all is well with the world. Sunday night I switched on the alarm and retired to bed.
My alarm sounds. I am confused; it feels like I have only been asleep for an hour. That’s because I have! Yes, folks, wonderful though my iPod is, it does not set the alarm. Unplugging it had reset it to the default midnight setting.
Groggily I try to remember how to set the alarm but I cannot. I lay down thinking “its ok, spouse gets up at 6, he will wake me”. I then lay awake for an hour terrified that spouse will not wake me. Eventually I relent and stagger to the bathroom to set my iPod for the correct time. Why the bathroom? Well, sometimes it’s noisy to set and I don’t want to disturb the house any more than it has already been disturbed. And so to bed.
I consider tottering downstairs to find my sleeping pills. (Why I do not keep them by my bed is a mystery). But while I am too awake to sleep I am just too sleepy to negotiate the stairs and fight off the cats who would be convinced it was feeing time.
I finally fall asleep about 3.30 am.
I am correct in my thinking that spouse will not wake me as he does not. And does my iPod? No, because I have left it in the bathroom in my groggy haze.
Complete disaster is avoided by daughter, she of shoe rack fame, waking me when she hears the iPod sounding in the bathroom.
Lesson learned. In future I will risk smashing up the shoe rack, or checking my alarm, or even better not bothering with the vacuuming…
What is the scariest sound in the world? Think about it. An owl, a creaky floorboard, chains dragging across a floor, windows rattling, any of these could set your heart racing.
How about a key unlocking a door? When you are married to an alcoholic, trust me, that is the scariest sound ever. Because you know he is home and very probably looking for a fight. Spouse is working overtime this morning and was due in at 7am. So it was a really good idea to spend seven hours in the pub last night. He staggered home some time around midnight.
I went to bed at 9 to avoid any confrontations. It used to be enough to just be in bed but these days I feign sleep too if he comes upstairs. Occasionally if he is really lashed up he will “wake” me up and have a go. Last night I lucked out as my three grown up children were awake and downstairs. They took the brunt. Don’t think I don’t feel guilty because I do but they are very capable of handling him. In days gone by I would have rescued them. He eventually passed out on the bed fully clothed at about 2 am. I came downstairs to sleep on the sofa to avoid the snoring. What a life. I really should sort it out. How many times have I considered leaving? At least once a day but things are never black and white are they? Sober he is not too bad. But the sober times are becoming fewer and fewer.
I have a rightmove app on my phone. I occasionally look up flats to rent in the area. I can afford none of them. Every Thursday and Sunday I check my emails with the fervent hope that I have won the lottery, and with it, my freedom. I had planned to escape with retirement and the independence to live any place I want; the government keep moving that later and later. At this rate I will move straight into a care home. I have plans but they are sketchy and subject to change. I did have a little secret hoard of money but sadly it was discovered. It went on a wide screen TV. I hate that TV.
Now the children have grown and becoming more independent the choices are easier, a little bedsit will do me and might have to.
Do ever hope that the key will not come one night and that something may have come to pass on the way home? I would be lying if I said no.
“Hello, yeah, it’s been a while Not much, how ’bout you? I’m not sure why I called I guess I really just wanted to talk to you”. England Dan & John Ford Coley
I don’t know why these lyrics just popped into my head. But it has been a while since I blogged. I suffer from depression on and off and sometimes I find it difficult to do anything. This morning I, was awake at 5.30am and I thought well I have no excuse now.
So what is keeping me awake? Well, mainly the snoring of my alcoholic spouse but also something I did, something stupid. A couple of weeks ago it was the union AGM to which hardly anyone came. Sandwiches had been provided and I sat steadily eating my way through the egg ones. Vacancies were discussed and suddenly I found myself volunteering for the sports and social secretary. Say what now! What the hell did I do that for? I know nothing about sports and as a confirmed tee total I know very little about social stuff.
It seemed like such a waste, having a meeting that no-one came to and nothing got done. I am thinking of organising a picnic and Christmas do (not at the same time) they will probably be the most disorganised events ever but since no-one else wants to do it – c’est la vie. I even found a book on Amazon that is called How to Organize a Social Event for Your Business. Seriously thinking of getting it.
Sadly another young boy near me has been shot. Apparently he was in a gang but in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was discussing this with my son when we came up with the ingenious idea that instead of having guns and knives gangs should use water pistols. If someone is on your patch, you soak them, they get the message and get home and no-one is hurt. They might get they gear ruined but hey they are still alive. My son favours paint balling and I thought that was a good idea too. Now, how to sell that to gangs? I bet there is a book on Amazon on how to do it.
I haven’t blogged for about two weeks now. And the reason? Sad but true, my phone is broken. I had not realised until this happened how much of a life line my phone was. On it I got facebook updates, twitter updates, Gmail updates and of course WordPress updates. Now, I get none of these. Off went the phone to the repair shop where I was informed it would take 28 days. Huh! 28 days, I can manage that I thought as I put my sim into a £15 replacement phone. A phone that sends and receives phone calls and texts. Let’s face it that is what mobile phones were originally for. Indeed that is all my first phone did and I thought it was amazing. But now, with the advent of smart phones we expect so much more. I had no idea I relied on that phone so much. I have my calendar on there with all my reminders; I have a countdown to the end of term, my aforementioned updates on my social life. (I don’t have a real social life – just a virtual one). The real joke of course ifs that I blog on my computer, not my phone, but somehow I just lost the impetus to do it.
Still its three days to the end of term, even without my countdown I know this. Hopefully this will give me more time to blog and write the one book that is in me.
In brighter news, I have accidently volunteered to be the sports and social person for my local unison branch. What a joke! If you saw me you would know I have no knowledge of sports whatsoever and I have already confessed that my social life is almost totally online. How did this happen? I am not sure. However, I have now been charged with arranging a summer picnic and the Christmas party. I wonder if I can dust off the nun’s costume for either of those.
“The worst thing about being lied to simply knowing you weren’t worth the truth” .This was brought home to me this week in a number of ways.
Daughter is feeling a bit low after breaking up with secret boyfriend. I am not altogether sure he is gay but he was not honest with her about what he wanted from the relationship. I feel quite sorry for her. There is nothing to compare with being lied to. I should know, it’s exactly what happened to me a couple of months ago. She will feel raw for a while and then it will fade Daughter’s thoughts are turning more than ever to moving to Australia for a year or so. I hate the thought of her going but if she doesn’t go soon she will not go at all.
I realized the other day that I had not thought abut the treacherous Andrew for about two weeks. Of course that notion meant that I had then thought about him but still a good sign I reflected. (I had put thought in that sentence at least four times. I needed a thesaurus). I wish I could just forget all about him but I can’t get rid of the bitterness. I needed a friend, he needed guilt free sex. I did not find out that fact until much later and it’s the being lied to that hurts more than being used.
Lies are abound at work too. I cannot say too much as the stories are confidential. I have been needed as a union rep a couple of times and got quite angry when the staff are accused of lying and then management change their story more than once making me think they are the ones lying. I have advised everyone to get everything in writing so it cannot be retracted. Too much treachery friends, too much.
On a more entertaining note, in a senior moment I found myself in the bathroom, fresh from the shower and no towelling dressing gown. I have no idea how I forgot to bring it. The only towels in the bathroom were hand towels. I do not keep bath towels in there because we all have our own towelling bath robes. I had a thought of streaking to my bedroom. However, I have a teenage son who would have been scarred for life at seeing his mother naked. I did think of yelling out “don’t look” and running but what is the first thing you do when someone tells you not to look? In the end I found a beach towel stuffed at the bottom of the airing cupboard. It was not quite big enough but did the job. And now? Yeah, there are now a couple of bath towels in the bathroom.
When my son told me he was gay I gave him a hug and asked him what he wanted for dinner. It was not the reaction he was expecting or even wanted. The thing is I had known since he was about ten.
He wanted one person, just one to say “Oh my God you are gay???!!” At the time he told me he was not happy about what life had dealt him. .
“It would be so much easier if I was straight.” He said sadly.
Well, maybe. I understand this, it would have been easier for me if I had married someone of the same race and religion, but I didn’t. Would I change it? No, because then I would not have had the experiences that I have had. I would not have the wonderful children that I have. I hoped he would see things this way too. At the time he asked that I not tell anyone else. I agreed, after all it was not my secret to tell.
I was very worried at first as I didn’t really know how to help him. I wanted him to be happy with his life and to be happy being gay. He told me he would die alone and unloved.
However, with the party and the official “coming out” he seems much more relaxed about things. I told a few friends who were nonplussed and I suspect probably knew. He still hasn’t had his big shock reveal. Nobody seems bothered or surprised.
His dad still does not know and I think he would get the big shock from him but for some reason he does not want to tell him.
I hope things will always go this smoothly for him. I suspect they wont, I have been in a mixed marriage for over 30 years and it hasn’t always been plain sailing. Lots of folk just don’t like it and they don’t hold back in telling you. They have said unkind things about the children too. How cruel I am for having them in the first place.
The worse times are when people don’t realise my situation and make racist or homophobic remarks. The constant challenging of these comments gets very wearing and has made me some powerful enemies.
But what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger they say.
Guess I must be very strong.