Wednesday, 6 May 2009

The dreams come crashing down....

It's Wednesday afternoon, the phone hasn't rung, I haven't got the flat.

That's how it happens. You get a call in the morning and told you are on the shortlist. You are then invited to view the flat the following morning together with the others who have been shortlisted. You look around and then tell the supervisor whether you want it or not. If you're lucky enough to be first, there are people behind you so don't dither too long. If you're second pray the first won't accept it. If you're sixth congratulations for turning up in the first place. Unless of course it's a shit property in which case you might get it. The flat I bid on being viewed tomorrow is a Good one.

A garden flat; they come round once in a blue moon so there must have been a blue moon last week behind the evening clouds. I think it's a street property. I didn't pay attention because I was thinking about the garden for my bike (and yes of course my son to play in, grow things in, invite friends round for a Knights of the Realm game with swords made of sticks and me to lie and sky gaze in, grateful at last that that the waiting is over, the fearing where we'll end up is over).

A street property though, what with them being auctioned off, they only come round once in a blue with purple spots moon. In which case incredibly dense clouds last week.

I did try. I emailed needs and access woman twice. I spoke to ex support worker. I never go to this much effort for the 'large estates'.

To feel better I imagine there's damp on the walls and doors hanging off hinges but I honestly couldn't give a flying fairy cake. It's got two bedrooms, a garden, not far from my Kentish Town pals, a short cycle to my son's school (to think, no more carrying him on the back!). The rent is £100, not as cheap as it used to be but this shoe box has increased to £250. A week, yes I'm talking a week. I could have been moving next week to a new life! (Yes, it's that quick in many cases. Be ready to move people, ready to move)

What's the point of dreaming? What is the point?
Years ago, in Japan, the girls asked me what kind of man I saw myself with. They groaned when I said I didn't see myself with one. But then I told them what I could see.

I was sitting at a table, facing a garden, writing on a computer. It was a sunny day, the grass glistened in my view. There were toys lying on the floor behind me but no presence of a child. No presence of a man. It felt peaceful.

My friends told me I was 'mad'. Now I have a child it makes sense; my son's with his dad and I haven't tidied up his lego because I'm busy writing something. It's what I'm doing now while my son's in after school club. The flat's a tip and I'll lose hope just as soon as I've written this.

When I was newly pregnant I dreamt that I would lose my job, my home, my partner. If negative dreams can manifest themselves, why not the positive ones. Why not hey?

It's dangerous to dream down here which is why alot of people I've met in my situation have stopped. They know what it's like.

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