Thursday, 10 January 2013

Praying for "the best outcomes"

I can't articulate the magnitude so I won't even try.

Tomorrow morning I have a 2 hour exam which if I pass will be a positive step in direction of my dreams - namely to learn shorthand (in the short-term) and get a payrise.(in the long-term)

Tomorrow afternoon I am viewing a flat. This is huge, this is so big, this is enormous.
The flat is great for my son, but not for me, on account of Zat bike and there being no space for it. It's a form of transport I need. Would you get rid of your much loved car because the home you've had a choiceless choice to move into meant you had to? Anyway, I'm saying YES and feel really fucking sick. I don't want to lose the bike. Argos have a 65% clearance sale going on though so timing couldn't be more perfect if we got it. Starting from scratch here...neither of us have beds and that's just the start...

I need to share some coincidences...I'll be quick, I don't like long posts particularly unless they are well written and well, love Stigmum as I do, I am her conduit and a hopeless judge.

The flat I'm viewing tomorrow is in the same block, or next door to the block where I said 'no' to a flat 6 years ago. (The first person had accepted it so I didn't see why I had to...)

I got a call on Tuesday, after posting (!) to go and view a flat I bid on in.... Papier Mache Towers! Yes, the place my son and I wrote this entire blog from when we were being evicted. "Aren't there plans to knock it down?" I said to the woman on the phone. "I don't know about that," she said. "I'm only given names to call. Do you want to view it?"

Yesterday I bet myself that on the bidding boards today, there would be a garden flat. There would be my 'ideal home'.
Bingo! There it was. Ground and basement floors with a garden. Steps so not for wheelchairs. And where is it? Why, the very street my son first lived on. A few doors down from where we both lived with the Foca. The very first place we were booted out from. Well, given no choice but to leave.

It made me think about Posh Street, where we were evicted from afterwards, narrowly avoiding a hostel only to land in Papier Mache Towers. I'd stand in the Posh Street's park in those dark days and implore the sky: "Please, one day, bring me back to Rochester!" like a Bronte heroine, only not half as cool.

Imagine...(I breathe, it is, all, if not too much, alot)

Anything could happen. Who knows what can happen? Not me (I've been reading posts that I saw others had read from Stiggers stats - long story ey stigs, a long long story but them readers picked some good ones for me to read back on. Your best is sometimes hard to find)

I'm praying I pass that exam tomorrow morning.
With the housing, I'm praying, I'm praying hard for the best outcome.
Whatever happens, I'm saying YES.
With that I relinquish control and hope the best, whatever that may be, comes to me and my boy.
My son, my sun, my boy, my buoy.

He asked to sleep in my bed tonight - "So you can hear me breathing if you can't sleep. I remember you said that used to help you when we shared a room"

How many times can you win in life?

I won with him; my son my sun my buoy, my boy.

I win for him now.

best outcomes best outcome best outcomes

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