The alarm goes off. The door to the bedroom has been left open. I get up, dress and go to greet the dogs. There is no need to be quiet although I like the sound of the silence that surrounds us, even if the dogs are making noise with their excitement, knowing the walk is due.
I am at home today. First I have had one removal firm come round and quote. I really wanted two different quotes. One for all our furniture (just in case) and one for the things I am taking. I ended up with one – for all our furniture. It is quite a lot of money. I can afford it but wish that it were cheaper.
So, there is some movement and I feel much more positive today – in general.
Before the Final Question can be answered, there needs to be some further dialogue – and dialogue without anger. We shall see. The email has been answered, ‘Re: Final Question’ as the title.
And now, due to work commitments, instead of Tuesday, I go to sign my contract for the perfect-flat-on-the-perfect-street next Wednesday. Hurrah!
This weekend, I will start to pack things up – the easier things, like books and things that are, obviously, mine. Maybe clear some crap out at the same time. Other than that, no specific plans although I may be out on Saturday night. Anyway, I must work on the website stuff and start the packing and, this week, take the dogs out a few times. They, too, have been suffering, as dogs do, with the all the things going on and deserve a good weekend. The weather has turned a little chilly anyway, quite suitable for walking the dogs.
Nothing very much, really.
Thanks for all your comments, I felt supported. And, Bianca, I didn’t mean that I wouldn’t write again, only that I couldn’t write any more that day.
The only thing to say about today is that it is the day after yesterday.
It has not gone well.
Having resisted, I find that I am now to blame for everything that is wrong. In some ways this has made the thing easier but now we are back to how it was when it all first happened, before Christmas.
I am tired of it. I am tired of the anger being directed toward me. I am sad and it is difficult even to write. In fact, right now I shall stop, post this and then that’s it.
Basta already!
I’m sorry, I lied. To you. Yesterday. I mean, the things I wrote were true and they were good things. But it wasn’t how I was really feeling.
One of the things about the blog writing that I like is that I can say what I want. And, I can use it as I want. Yesterday was, in fact, quite a bad day for several reasons. I use things to make me feel different than I really feel and one of those is to bury my head in the sand, a little, by not facing up to my fears (only sometimes and, I hope, under control). Another way is to think of only positive things.
Often these things work. Sometimes they don’t. I never know which way it will go.
As it happens, it got worse during the day.
It got better, though, that evening when, during a conversation with V, I realised that, perhaps, the light was beginning to dawn in his head and that he seemed to be trying to face up to his own responsibilities. Of course, this was mixed with the feeling of SO wanting to help, take him my arms and make everything all right for him again.
It’s a dangerous situation, I know. He has always been my wild, social side and I have always been his serious, logical side. Together, it worked for so long; apart, well……..
I guess that we know each other too well; know how to press the right buttons: know how to get what we want – apart from the things that we can’t control, like me giving in to the things (I mean physical things) he wants to purchase and him, maybe, giving in to a lifestyle that’s a little ‘older’ than he would really prefer.
Of course, as a result of last night we are on the way, possibly, to reconciliation although, given the seriousness of the problem, I really don’t know if it is possible or, even, desired. Is that terrible of me?
In any event, the reconciliation will be a long and, I suspect, painful process. The last time we went through something like this it took 10 months and for most of those months we never saw each other. This time, I suspect, it will be much longer and much more difficult.
Of course, it could be made longer/shorter by his need for help, which immediately presses my “HELP V” button. Bugger.
Yes, I know, Cecilieaux, you are probably screaming at the computer right now, as you read this ‘DON’T DO IT’. And, of course, you would be right. I know I should reject the calls for help, implied or explicit and I will certainly be struggling to ‘do the right thing’.
Anyway, I’m sorry that I lied to you yesterday but it did help me to remember the good bits and your comments about those good things were also helpful, so, thanks.
“I’ve got €7 to last me until pay day.”
I am, due to the impending move, being very careful. It doesn’t mean I can’t go out; buy cigarettes; buy stuff I need, but I am just being watchful knowing that, although I have another pay-check to come before I move and yet another before I have to pay the first rent, I will need cash for the movers (I cannot do it on my own); pay the deposit; and, almost certainly, buy stuff where we only had ‘one’ of something (for example, a table to eat off – although I have plans to make that not such a ‘big’ expenditure).
And I would understand if [of V] it were just the one month because, for instance, paying a deposit or having to pay car insurance or something. But this has been all three months of this year, so far.
But, considering we are only half-way to pay day, I am taken aback.
Of course, it’s no longer my responsibility, in any way, but I want to ask things like “What have you spent it all on?” but, then, I think I know some of the answers to that already. A party at which few of the friends attended because the invites were only made the day before or, even, that day; a new tattoo (I think but this is pure guess on my part); going out with colleagues.
What will happen when the rent becomes due every month (and the flat he chose was, in my view, too expensive, even for me!) and the bills, every two months? And, I know too, that there will borrowing ahead of the salary; borrowing to stay afloat meaning that the following month there will be less available; and so on and so on. A spiral of debt leading, almost inevitably, to a disaster. Oh, I hope not but I just know.
And, even if it is not my responsibility, I still feel responsible. How crazy is that? Worse, if I had the money, almost certainly, I would be offering (yes, you read rightly – offering) to help! But it would be help for ever.
This is what it must be like when you have kids who go out into the world but never really cut the apron strings.
In any event, over the next two weeks, I shall be buying the coffee, the milk, the wine, the food – in addition to my own expenses.
I don’t mind and I do mind – all at the same time. I can’t NOT do it. I wish I could. Does it make me stupid? Some kind of fool? Yes, I guess so. But I am unable to do anything else.
And, when we are in separate flats, what then? Will I be tapped for a few Euro here, a free meal there, coffee at my house because he doesn’t have any? Or worse, “Can you just lend me a few hundred to pay the electric bill; the rent; the loan?”.
And the answer will almost certainly be ‘yes’, even if it means postponing certain purchases I want. There’s just no planning; no thought of anything other than the “now”.
I can’t live like that and yet, through him, I still do!
You have to sing the title to the tune of “Let’s talk about sex!”, if you see what I mean. At least, that was what was going through my head as I thought of the title.
Firstly, sorry to those of you who couldn’t read my blog yesterday. There was going to be a post but at about 9.30 a.m. or so our time, my blog went off-line. There then followed a slightly bizarre exchange of comments between me and the hosters of this site – 000webhost.
It started off OK. Instead of saying that the website was down, which is what I usually do, because I knew it was something to do with the database, I went for that instead.
They replied that I would have to upgrade if I wanted help with scripts. I didn’t as that wasn’t the problem. But then I had to go into more lengthy explanations as to why it was down.
Eventually, at about 3 in the afternoon they came back with “it will be fixed very shortly”.
By the time I got home and got my creaky, old laptop up and running, it had been about 3 hours. I rated this as a reasonable time to start asking again.
I got the reply that “it can take up to two hours”. Now I know that this is hosted somewhere where English is not a first language and it is completely free, so I feel I have to cut them a bit of slack. And, having taught English as a Second Language, I am aware of the way that something can be miss-said. So, I didn’t go mad but thought that, perhaps, what they really meant was that it might take up to another 2 hours. I responded to clarify my thinking.
It seems I was right. But the reply was a typical, non-mother-tongue-English speaker, using the word hardly instead of hard. It happens a lot here too. The response included the line “Our head admin is hardly working on it”. It makes me laugh every time. At work or with friends I do, gently, correct them. For those of you who are Italian it should read “Our head admin are working hard on it” or, even better, “Our head admin are working very hard on it”; hardly being very little – almost nothing and hard being very much.
So, this is being written at home and I may get it up there tonight but, probably, it will be tomorrow (i.e. Saturday).
So, I apologise for being off-line but that’s life and the hosting people are, overall, one of the best free hosters I’ve come across. I am toying with the idea of paying for it and moving more sites there but I will wait a little longer.
In other news, you’ve probably read about the British arm of Google/You Tube cutting off the supply to premium British content over the wrangling about how much they pay the artists. Now, in my opinion, there are pros and cons for both sides. However, the Music Industry need to get real. If you can’t find it on You Tube, because it’s been blocked, the obvious place to go is one of the more illegal download places – and then the Music Industry lose the money all together. It all seems a bit crazy to me. A little like the Luddites from the past. I realise that someone has to work out a new model but burying your head in the sand is just not the way.
And, as I suspected, I was asked something else – not the same as before (and that question may, even, still be open) – but very, very similar. Of course, I could not refuse but it makes me very, very nervous. And, of course, if I get let down again, this time, it will make things much more difficult in the future but, at least, I shall be more likely to say ‘no’, I guess.
Well, if it all goes horribly wrong then I shall, no doubt, lose my new flat and then I am likely to be very angry. However, all things being equal, I sign up a week on Tuesday and move in on the 15th of next month. I can’t wait! It will be home, at last, in a country that should feel home (and does, when I’m away from it), rather than a place of transience.
Tonight (or last night as you read this) we are off to FfI’s for a supper and drinks. It should be nice.
Update: Up early this morning. Worried about the question asked. The things that need to be done. There’s a lot of reliance on me; a lot of trust that I need to have but is, sadly, lacking. And yet, still I can’t say “no”. Damn!
I know that V will survive without me but, sometimes, I wonder how?
I mean, take last night as an example. He arrived home and asked me if I had a washing machine where I was going. I replied in the affirmative. He suggested that we could get one for free from a work colleague and all we had to do was pick it up. This would, indeed, be useful as the washing machine no longer works and both of us are fed up with hand washing.
Today is one of those days. Whilst everything is going OK (at work and at home, given all the situations), I have this slightly strange feeling that, in a single moment, one little thing could mean that everything starts unravelling and collapse in a jumble on the floor.