There'll be no stopping me now

Couple of things today: 1. I am so bored I can barely summon the energy to type, but that's easily explained away by the fact that I am currently in the office, there's no radio, and the silence is making my ears melt.

2. Much more exciting, and I'd even go so far as to say a source of joy, is the news that we have had a land line installed at the flat. Hallelujah! Rejoice! Etc.! This means I can now get online whenever the fancy takes me, and all from the comfort of my own home. Apart from the sheer convenience of being able to blog in my pyjamas (or in the nude, what the hell), at 3 in the morning, I also see many, many ebay purchases in my near future. It also means I will be able to post more regularly, which I know will also be a source of joy for all of you.

Be back very soon, probably later on tonight - get me.

The rich are different from you and me...

...they've got more fucking money. Ahem.

Have been plagued with financial woes since my last post, and have been doing lots of juggling with my money (or lack thereof). It has been both harrowing and time consuming, so I been a bit lax on the posting front. Since I'm feeling a bit drained from all that, and what with the flashbacks to the airless, windowless room I spent two hours in last Thursday in a nail-biting attempt to refinance my bank loan, I'm going to post a poem, buy a bit of time and gather my thoughts.

Here's Invictus by W.E. Henley - it's a bit like getting a shot of instant moral fibre:

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbow'd.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Aaah. Deep breath, that's better.

Back soon...

Decisions, decisions

I choose debt. I choose to live in London, I choose to scrape by, be unable to afford a holiday and to think twice before treating myself to a glossy magazine. I choose an interesting and challenging job with very low pay. I choose to worry myself crazy over my poor financial situation on a regular basis. I choose to feel sick to my stomach when I call the bank; I choose to get tight-chested and short of breath whenever I check my balance. I choose to count amongst the paltry possessions I have amassed in my lifetime one chest of drawers from Ikea; one bookshelf from Argos; one CD tower from Ikea, and a laptop which does not belong to me yet, but is still owned in part by Dixons. I choose debt. Apparently.

*Sigh.

That money talks
I’ll not deny.
I heard it once.
It said ‘Goodbye.’
Richard Armour


I choose good health, lovely family, good friends and fabulous shoes too. But why is there always so much month left at the end of the money?