Monday night and Tuesday morning

Yyyyyey! Sssssooo rrrrreLIEVED! Dddddoonn'ttt hhhaavve tto mmmooove. Ffffffuck ittt's sssooo cccccold. Llllettt mmme ttttry tttto wwwritte ssssomethhhing. Bbig ssstory, bbbbbig sssstory. Nnnot the sssame as Mmmy Wwweekend. Hhhhhow? Ssssso ttttired, tttooo ttttired. Tttttooo cccccccccccold. Bbbbbbbed.

Relief dreams chase me through the night.

The alarm finally goes. My son and I bound together in a huddle of warmth. Ccccold out tttthere.

Nico Teen? Where are you Nico Teen? I can't find you Nico Teen. Where did I put you last night Nico Teen? I can't remember so tired I was so tired.

Landlady phones. Plumber coming tomorrow night. Tomorrow night? She says she'll come round with a heater. She's nice my landlady. I'm lucky.

Stop looking for Nico Teen. Eat. Toast and marmite. Force it down. Good opportunity to give up smoking. I want to give up. Nico Teen. WHERE ARE YOU?

My son finds Nico Teen in the bathroom. I'm so sorry I smoke. I will give up I promise.

Late for school. Go for a shot I tell myself, try to write something. Fag first. Oh oh oh fag first.

"Hi!" I say to E's mum as she walks towards me. "You ok?"

"Not bad, how are you?"

"Knackered. I got a possession order on Saturday saying I had to be out of my flat by next Monday."

"Fucks sake, they do anyfing don't they?"

"So yesterday I find out exactly what the council would've done with us. I ring the housing association who issued the order and they say they can't see anything on the system.."

"What???"

"I know, bloody unbelievable isn't it? So I ring my landlady to ask for a stay of execution and she says she'll ring the housing association and tells them to phone me."

"And what did they say?"

"Don't worry! It's nothing to worry about, it's just a procedure! I don't have to go until they issue the Bailiff's order."

"When's that?"

"August. I'll go through this again next August but at least it won't be Christmas but how are you?"

"Christmas yeah, they like to frow fings at Christmas but I might have a case against the council with my housing."

"Yeah? Oh great."

"Yeah. I've got 366 points now."

"Oh wow, how did you get that?"

"I've been really ill and I fink they're beginnin' to realise that although my problem's somefing else, housing's playing a massive part."

"Tell me about it," I laugh in the shivering cold. "I'm writing stuff about me yeah but can I throw what's happening to you in there? I need a fake name for you though. What fake name do you want?"

"Call me Lucky!" she says and we both giggle.

"You sure?"

"Yeah! I was in fuckin' court last week."

"What??? Why???"

"Yeah, because of me bein' ill and all the Baby P stuff, they've put a supervision order on E."

"You're joking... Have you got a social worker?"

"Oh yeah, I've got one and E's got one so she's alright but me...."

"I bet you can't erm, you know, erm, tell her off!"

"No way! I don't know what her social worker's sayin' to her on the quiet when they're togever but the stuff she's comin' out wiv, I can't say anyfin' to her. If I say "don't do whatever" she's like "you're so unfair, I hate you, I'm calling the police!"

"It beggars bloody belief doesn't it..."

"On top of that yeah, a girl in my counsellin' group committed suicide last week."

"Noooooooo."

"It all got too much for her."

"Was she a mum?"

"No but it doesn't matter does it.. she was a nice girl too, I'm still in shock and I have to be all happy happy 'oh it's Christmas isn't it exciting' so E doesn't feel it an' get affected."

I laugh at this. "I bought my son a Christmas CD for 3 quid on Sunday and was playing all this tinny music really loudly so he wouldn't guess how frightened I was."

"Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow on our cardboard box!" she sings.

"Ha ha ha, tis the season ey, tis the season! Listen good luck, I'm going to go in there for a coffee and write all this shit down."

"Yeah, I've got to go too."

"Look after yourself Lucky!"

"Yeah, you too."

Lucky mamma is on the transfer register. She moved into a permanent one bed flat. Often it's nigh on impossible for mums who have moved into one bed council flats to move into a two bed. They need to be dragged off in a straight jacket first and even then it's tough.

This image chased me, the mamma in a temporary flat, in my dream last night. From the Christmas Carol film clearly. The girl "WANT" clinging to the legs of the giant ghost grows into a woman swirling around scrooge. "Aren't there any workhouses," she cackles before being encased in a straight jacket and pulled away into the distance.

You might understand why I might have cried in that bit of the film.