I stomped up to the Heath this morning with a heavy heart, wrote my song to lighten it, then support worker texted to ask if 2pm this afternoon was ok.
It was funny because I'd forgotten I was meeting him but was thinking of him nonetheless. It was thinking of my housing troubles that gave me a heavy heart after such a lucky weekend.
My support worker has heard nothing, so he said to me.
Not heard from the Tory since the four way meeting, not heard from the Libdem Leader's Pal, heard no whispers from Allocations, didn't seem to know anything about my being in the paper.
Is there no backchat about mine and my son's situation? Or is there backchat and support worker's not being told anything lest he tell it to me?
I've a mind to email Tory, after all, he's not replied to any of my emails sent a couple of weeks ago.
I've a mind to call the Libdem Leader's Pal. He was nice when I met him and seemed genuinely interested in helping us.
Or maybe that's how I interpreted it. Maybe meeting me was to get the press off the Libdem wagon.
Either way, a lot of fear and hope before the Scot trip. You'd hope something good would come out of all that.
Maybe I'm just naive. Still naive. Live a life where I'm taught so many lessons and still get spat out the other end as naive as I was when I entered them all.
Where are the bagpipes? Drown the sounds in my head.
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2 comments:
Poor you, frustration pours out of you, will think about you tonight x
Oh you're so lovely mamma, thank you! Blogspot has to take it all or I'd implode. Doc says 'move on' and it's the only way I can think of how! Take care ya hear me?! xxx
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