Monday, 27 August 2012

Being poor sucks!

I know, I know, nothing like stating the bleedingly obvious.  It's true though.  It does.  Not in obvious ways, either.  I mean, yes, being able to afford to go on holiday would be nice (duh) but it's the little things that are really the bummer.  Like whether we can afford kitchen towels or not (for a long time we couldn't - even now they are doled out like precious gems) or being able to afford fruit.  I love the stuff (avocados excepted..don't see the point) but if you were to give me a choice between, say, mango & pineapple or chocolate I'd chose the former which is pretty astounding since I adore chocolate.  Unfortunately chocolate is a damn sight cheaper than fruit (although not by much and we can't afford chocolate anyway, but you get the idea). A pound of grapes or a Snickers bar?  Grapes win every time.  Or would.

My mother is in hospital.  Nothing serious (as in nothing actually wrong regarding being ill) but she can't walk.  Can't stand, either.  Her hip bones have finally told the rest of her body that they're on their own.  The hip bones have had enough, which is understandable. They're getting on a bit.  She's been in for a while whilst they try to work out a schedule of carers (they will need to use a two-person hoist and she's incontinent...just the sort of bundle of laughs that makes you think you really don't want to be old) but tomorrow she is released.  Discharged.  Kicked out.  However you want to put it.  Up until now I've been able to see her on a regular basis but this will change since we live about eight miles away (maybe more, maybe less - there comes a time when it doesn't really matter) and - it's embarrassing to even think about it - I can't afford the bus fare.  Yup.  You heard it here, folks.  We can't afford the £3.40 return it would cost to go to see my mother.  Now isn't that a total bummer?  Forget these people who are bemoaning the fact that they can't afford the latest bag or can 'only' manage one foreign holiday a year but this takes not having money to a whole new dimension.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.  By this age - not, I have to admit, that I ever gave any consideration to being in my forties.  Or at least, I gave it as much consideration as I did being in my fifties.  Or sixties.  As in, none whatsoever - things are supposed to be reasonably settled.  You know, have a home that's more yours than the bank's; spouse and brat or two; secure.  Comfortable.  Having been able to tick some things off one's bucket list.  Instead I find myself here: renting a house, counting every penny half-a-dozen times and wearing cast off shoes and clothes.  I know I used to tell the kids that life wasn't fair but this is taking things a tad too far.

As I've said before, Mark believes in karma. I don't.  Sorry, but.  It seems to me that bad things happen to good people all the damn time whilst - even more unfairly - the reverse is also the case.  Even if we dispense with the idea that I'm a good person (I am.  Trust me.  Would I lie to you??) I've known some sorry SOBs in my time and where are they?  At the top of the pile.  So, no.  Karma is a nice idea, just like world peace.  But that's all it is.  An idea.  Rather like the Christian, 'the meek shall inherit the earth.'  It's a sop for those poor saps who do try to be decent human beings.  You may be trodden on in this life but, don't worry, you'll get the reward after you're dead.  Has it ever occurred to anyone that I wouldn't mind the rewards now?  In this life?  Just in case the afterlife isn't.  I've heard of deferred gratification but this is taking it far too far.  

Isn't it rather sad when even Fate says, 'the cheque is in the post'?

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