Sunday, November 24, 2019

2019 update.

I was clearing down some of my emails this morning while I was looking for a particular email and came across a number of emails dating back to my early blogging days. It brought me back here to my blog and remembering the immense fun I used to have blogging and reading blogs from all around the world. Sadly, most of those blogs have now died out.

After 12 years of blogging, I don't want mine to die out, so here I am with an update. 

In October, my Decree Nisi was passed by the Family Court. It has taken this long as I have had far too many problems and obstacles to overcome - getting divorced was the least of my problems.

For example, since September 2016, I have had 7 jobs. 

Job no 1 (4 months) - Left to join a rival company (Job no 2) for a higher salary. The company sub-contracted me to another. (Job 3)

After 3 months the company, I was originally contracted to (Job 2) went into administration. Several days later, the company I had been subcontracted to offered me employment which became Job No 4. They also subcontracted me to work for another firm which, in effect, was Job no 5. 

Nine months later, the two companies I was working for decided to withdraw from the shopping centre in which I was based. I was made redundant with a week's salary.

I was unemployed for about 3 weeks. It was an awful time. I was depressed and hit rock bottom. Then the employer of Job no 3/4 offered me a short-term contract working in London - Job no 6. I was promoted to Acting Manager, but I was paying a fortune to travel into London and working with people who had a zero-work ethos. So, when I got the chance to leave three months later, I moved to go to Job no 7. Job no 7 provided some stability on a better wage but was problematic in that it was on zero-hours and I never knew how long it would last.

So in July this year, I was laid off with no redundancy and no job to go to. I was unemployed for 4 months. I applied for numerous jobs, had countless interviews. All of which went well. One interviewer even told me I was the strongest candidate, but they didn't have the money to pay me a decent salary so they offered it to someone else. I came to the conclusion that it is still very much an ageist, sexist society even here in the UK. Even women employers are ageist - young women are often insecure and fearful of older women with more life and work experiences so they employ younger people who can be easily managed and manipulated. 

Eventually, after numerous interviews and rejections, I finally got a job (no 8) which I started 2 weeks ago. It is a store manager's job paying a school leaver's wage. It requires a lot of physical labour. 

I am now knackered and broke. 

Despite this, I don't regret ending my marriage. In fact, if anything, it has proved it was precisely the right thing to do because my husband's behaviour since our separation vindicates my decision. In the three years since leaving this area, he has not once come to visit our children. He has never voluntarily offered any help, pays whatever he feels like paying into the joint account and in the 4 legal meditation sessions behaved like an ass not producing the financial documents required by law on time. Bizarrely, during the last session, he seemed to think the onus was on me to verify he didn't own his car - most people would just produce their company car documents. At that point, and when he made it clear he didn't think I should have more than 50% of the house equity despite the fact the boys live with me, my income expectations are much lower than his, I have no pension of any note, no income at that time and no wealthy family to fall back on or live rent-free with (as he does) it was apparent mediation was just a time-wasting effort.

However, the biggest pain for me continues to be the effect on my children. Especially on my youngest son, whose formerly outstanding tennis career is effectively ruined as a direct result of my husband's financial irresponsibility. His academics have suffered too, which given the situation is not surprising. There will be no forgiveness from me ever for the effect he has had on my son. My children and I are now closer than ever, they have witnessed my struggles, and they know nothing is going to stop me fighting for them and for what is fair and just.

In January 2020, we have a last-ditch meeting with the deputy court judge to try and settle out of court. Going to court will drain equity in the house, but I fully expect to have to attend court as there hasn't been one iota of common sense in my husband's actions for years. Unfortunately, if we don't agree in January, it will be approximately 10 months before we get a court date and I will have to defer the Decree Absolute. Only once the finances are sorted will I be able to determine a way forward.

So that's where I am. On the writing front, I haven't done much of my own except a memoir which I don't intend to publish in its current format although I may use some of it as inspiration for future writing. I keep my creative mind ticking by helping friends and relatives with their writing. I am waiting for the new chapter of my life to begin where I am free from the past and can embrace the future on my own terms. I have always been politically-minded, but my experiences of the last few years have really clarified some thoughts on society and especially the unequal and subservient role of women. My future writing will no doubt encompass some of those thoughts.

I am not sure when I will publish new writing. But rest assured this is one blog that will not die and one voice that will not be silenced. I still have an irrepressible sense of humour which has kept me going through my darkest moments and many tears. I have hit rock bottom and I have clawed my way out. 

The only way is up.

Monday, September 23, 2019

Poetry Time


If is a crazy word
Or an unhealthy turd
If only I had done this
Or that
Thrown away the key
And just been me

If only I had said no
And fought my foe
If only I had done this
Or that
Instead I stuck it out
And now I want to shout

If only I could be free
Sing from the tops of trees
If only I could do this
Or that
But the vice is still tight
And I'm prepared for a fight

If only women were not subjugated
Or flagellated
If only they could do this
Or that
If only women had one voice
Then we would rejoice

If is a crazy word
As fragile as a baby bird
If only I could do this
Or that
If may define my past
But I refuse to be typecast

If is a word of possibilities
Freedom from responsibilities
If only I could do this
Or that
And I will
Because I shall not standstill

Friday, January 25, 2019

Me and Brexit

So there are enough people coming back here to prompt me to crawl from under my bed to write to a post and thank you all for taking the time to visit my somewhat stagnant blog.

So, I am still alive. I have a slightly bigger arse than I had a year ago due to consumption of Maltesers to relieve stress. However, I have yet to throw myself under a bus or drive into a brick wall ...not that I haven't thought about the enticing prospect of a collision with a brick wall but given the size of my arse I'd probably rebound and just end up wheelchair-bound rather than hanging out with St Peter.

Besides, someone's got to look after the kids, cats and chickens. So I've nominated myself as chief carer, breadwinner, loo cleaner, cook and general dogsbody. Which is not a lot different from what I did before, except from the bread-winning. And I've done a lot of it last year sometimes working 14 hours days with 2 hours of commuting on a zero hours contract. My record is 19 days work without a day off. Not bad for a 53 year old with a weight problem.

If only I was Kim Kardadshian (still can't spell that name and I've no intention of learning) and the only thing I had to worry about was which flimsy g-string I had to squash my arse into!

Ah first world problems, don't you just love'em?!

So what else shall we talk out?

How about Brexit?

So it's looking like on March 29th we will leave the European Union without a deal in place. Still, I think that's better than a worthless piece paper like the one Neville Chamberlin brought home in 1939. However, I have sent a selection of loo rolls by courier to Mrs May just in case there a last minute deal and she needs some paper she can later flush away easily. I sent a packet of 9 rolls, rather than a singular roll, because you know whatever clauses the French and Germans dream up there will be a lot of shit in them.

I also sent Mrs May a bugging device that she can plant in Mrs Merkel's office so she can listen in on  German plans to take over Britain with audit rolls and small print.

You've got to give the Germans credit for trying. They couldn't defeat us with Heinkels and Stukas so they're adopting a more subtle approach which, according to my secret sources, has be named after Mrs Merkel's foreign policy and code-named "The Vaginal Solution."

Which basically means Mrs Merkel wants to **** us over and then move onto the rest of Europe. The French are already in her pocket. (They'll get in anyone's for a packet of cigarettes and a string of onions). The Spanish, the Greeks and the Italians would cave in at the sight of Merkel's thermal bloomers so basically it up to us Brits to lead the way and save the world from another German balls up.

Well I think that sums up Brexit nicely. What topic shall I tackle next?  Answers on a piece of loo roll.....

My Nominees for the US and UK Elections and Other Waffle

It's the early hours of the morning, and I have had a large gin... Late-night alcohol is always a good recipe for writing gibberish. And...