I got a phone call late yesterday afternoon.
"How did you get my number?" I asked the man
"It was on your CV which you sent me."
"Oh yes! It's the wrong address though! I moved, I don't live there anymore! Told you it was an old one...."
I have an interview this afternoon.
"What's it for?" asked Gardening Mum at the school gates.
"I don't know!" I giggled.
"Well you better find out then," she said, with no exclamation mark because she sounded quite serious.
I stopped giggling, she may have a point.
I shall ask him. I know it's something about a website.
I blog at a later date, perhaps tomorrow, perhaps Friday, what I wanted to post about the pub job.
I met this man in the pub!
I can't tell him I've been fired can I? Or shall I? You know, be honest...
Do I mention my insecure, expensive housing situation and any money he pays me will make me worse off financially?
Bugger.
I must empty my mind. Empty it, empty, shake out all that stuff.
I need to close my eyes and make a dash for the other side of the river.
If I fall in, I fall in
best not think about that either.
Eeek! It is quite exciting!!
Wednesday, 7 September 2011
Sending thoughts to who knows who?
September 7th
To the Defend Council Housing folk, in reponse to their email:
Hi,
What can I do to help with your campaign? I've given up on mine because it's so flipping hard. Joining with you guys might help me take up my arms again. Here's the link to a letter the CNJ published last year... I didn't get a council flat and was told I would never get one.
I want to go to the Housing Emergency Meeting next Tuesday and am trying to find someone who can pick up my son from his Kung Fu lesson so I can go. I wrote to Boris Johnson asking him to meet me. I wrote to Nick Clegg and I shake my head at the response from that camp. I met Clegg before the election. He may have forgotten but I haven't. I've met the Reverend a couple of times and have attended quite a few of the daytime emergency meetings in the past.
(Ken Livingstone will be at the meeting and Simon Hughes Libdem MP)
I want to give up to be honest with you. Not think about housing anymore because it depresses the f out of me but it would be wrong to give up because thousands, millions of people are in a situation very similar to mine.
Well you know that; you defend people's rights to council housing. You are defending council housing.
Please get back to me. Like I said, I'd like to help.
Kind regards
Sue de Nim
To the Defend Council Housing folk, in reponse to their email:
Hi,
What can I do to help with your campaign? I've given up on mine because it's so flipping hard. Joining with you guys might help me take up my arms again. Here's the link to a letter the CNJ published last year... I didn't get a council flat and was told I would never get one.
I want to go to the Housing Emergency Meeting next Tuesday and am trying to find someone who can pick up my son from his Kung Fu lesson so I can go. I wrote to Boris Johnson asking him to meet me. I wrote to Nick Clegg and I shake my head at the response from that camp. I met Clegg before the election. He may have forgotten but I haven't. I've met the Reverend a couple of times and have attended quite a few of the daytime emergency meetings in the past.
(Ken Livingstone will be at the meeting and Simon Hughes Libdem MP)
I want to give up to be honest with you. Not think about housing anymore because it depresses the f out of me but it would be wrong to give up because thousands, millions of people are in a situation very similar to mine.
Well you know that; you defend people's rights to council housing. You are defending council housing.
Please get back to me. Like I said, I'd like to help.
Kind regards
Sue de Nim
Putting thoughts in emails
Hi [Support Worker],
I got your letter. Indeed a long time!
I'd like to meet you but I can't next Monday as I have to take [my son] swimming. Because we're much further away from the pool now I take him straight from school by bus.
For some reason I thought the meeting was last Monday and I waited for you! Alternate Mondays [my son's] dad is supposed to take him and pick him up from the flat but he didn't show. Not the first time so I've said he can't take him anymore. He's blasting me with texts and emails that I do not read because I've had enough.
You say my case is going to be closed. I don't understand.
You are part of the homeless household support service aren't you?
I'm still a homeless household aren't I?
If I am managing [Support Worker] it's because I do not bid. A few weeks ago a friend got a council flat [down the road] and I fell into that now familiar abyss where I didn't want to be alive anymore. She had way more points than me and a child who hasn't started school yet. If that was me, I wouldn't have to worry about my son's education anymore. People are already asking me where he'll go for secondary and how can I know? My lease runs out the year I have to go to open days. I'm hoping for [the local boys school] or [the local mixed school] because that's what I want for him. He's doing so well at school. Enough turbulence. Like I said, I manage if I don't think about these things. I drown if I do. I CANNOT BID. When in "desperate need" I didn't get a place so I'm hardly going to get one now.
So yes, I'd like to see you. Is there a day other than Monday you can do? Or earlier in the day that Monday? I have to go to the job centre on Friday to be moved over to job seekers. A barrel of laughs I think not. I've just lost a pub job I had. At £6 an hour though, it was never going to pay the rent.
I hope you're well and look forward to seeing you
Sue de Nim
I got your letter. Indeed a long time!
I'd like to meet you but I can't next Monday as I have to take [my son] swimming. Because we're much further away from the pool now I take him straight from school by bus.
For some reason I thought the meeting was last Monday and I waited for you! Alternate Mondays [my son's] dad is supposed to take him and pick him up from the flat but he didn't show. Not the first time so I've said he can't take him anymore. He's blasting me with texts and emails that I do not read because I've had enough.
You say my case is going to be closed. I don't understand.
You are part of the homeless household support service aren't you?
I'm still a homeless household aren't I?
If I am managing [Support Worker] it's because I do not bid. A few weeks ago a friend got a council flat [down the road] and I fell into that now familiar abyss where I didn't want to be alive anymore. She had way more points than me and a child who hasn't started school yet. If that was me, I wouldn't have to worry about my son's education anymore. People are already asking me where he'll go for secondary and how can I know? My lease runs out the year I have to go to open days. I'm hoping for [the local boys school] or [the local mixed school] because that's what I want for him. He's doing so well at school. Enough turbulence. Like I said, I manage if I don't think about these things. I drown if I do. I CANNOT BID. When in "desperate need" I didn't get a place so I'm hardly going to get one now.
So yes, I'd like to see you. Is there a day other than Monday you can do? Or earlier in the day that Monday? I have to go to the job centre on Friday to be moved over to job seekers. A barrel of laughs I think not. I've just lost a pub job I had. At £6 an hour though, it was never going to pay the rent.
I hope you're well and look forward to seeing you
Sue de Nim
Tuesday, 6 September 2011
Joining a housing campaign
Wouldn't you know, yesterday after posting that I was abandoning my cause, I got an email from Defend Council Housing asking if people could join their campaign.
I've been tidying up my house today, in preparation for a fantastic job.
I shall email them back tomorrow.
I like coincidences, they are always full of promise.
A pity there's no payment for I'm not looking foward to signing on every two weeks.
With any luck I won't have to!
Something will come up and come up soon!
I've been tidying up my house today, in preparation for a fantastic job.
I shall email them back tomorrow.
I like coincidences, they are always full of promise.
A pity there's no payment for I'm not looking foward to signing on every two weeks.
With any luck I won't have to!
Something will come up and come up soon!
Wrong days
Nitwit that I am, I read the letter from the housing support worker wrong. Next week he's coming.
Next week doesn't suit - I have to take my boy swimming.
I didn't think I had to take my boy swimming yesterday, his dad takes him the weekends they don't see each other, but guess what? He didn't turn up.
Again.
You don't know it's 'again', you don't know the texts I have sent him in the past asking him to let me know if he's not going to make it. You don't know that the last time he didn't show I said 'that's it, Monday's are over' and a big row ensued so I said one more chance.
Yesterday I sent a text and said that unless a cab was outside my door, he wasn't taking our boy swimming on Mondays again. I would confirm in an email. I sent the text at 5, the email half an hour later.
At 10.15 I yawn thinking I shall take myself to bed with the book I'm reading (Red Queen by Philippa Gregory) when my phone goes, and goes again, and tells me I have too many messages and to delete. It's the Foca. I start to read but there's so much of it, I delete it and more comes and more I have to delete so I text him and say"I've no space 4 your texts so I delete them" then more comes about me ignoring or deleting and my phone again tells me to delete (because it's got low memory and I've got pictures on it) so I make some space and text:
" I've told you again and again my phone can't take long messages but again and again you send them. Just leave me alone. It's late."
The fucking gall of what he sends next:
"If I could leave you alone I would - we have a son - and you choose to act in a manner to drive us apart - then choose to delete or ignore my response due to the time of day - forgive me if I set my priorities differently and put my son above my need for sleep or ability to scroll through messages on a phone"
Er..who's messages?
Fuck..you missed the summer. The night he bombarded me with texts about how it was his weekend with our son (who'd seen him the weekend before) and how I was "a liar who doesn't co-operate". I forwarded that text back to him at the end of that 'text row'.
Then he didn't bring our son back from Ireland on the Monday as promised. When did he let me know my son wasn't coming back? 9.30 at night. Said he'd just got home. I texted 'That's no excuse' (for not letting me know) I emailed him because my phone couldn't take it and shit flew back. I wanted to ignore it but took umbrage at the word "bully" - that I am a bully - and told the foca that our son had told me that his dad had called him a bully and didn't want me to tell the foca that I knew because he was scared he'd get into trouble. "Are you going to tell your mother [I called you a bully]?" his dad apparently said to which my son had replied "No"
"Sticks and stones can break my bones
Your words will just bounce back at you"
The final line of my email.
Silence, until last night. I'd share his patronising message with you - I have it, he sent it to my email. That's flash phones for you.
How many characters in a text? 140? Like a tweet?
His text to me (you know how when they are too big they cut half way through a word or cut on the first letter of the next word..) Anyway, his text was (fuck, this is going to take me ages)
672 characters but I've only counted 3 out of the 8 paragraphs that copied in as email.
I have not, will not respond. He accuses me of ranting (not in this one, the reply to my text asking why he couldn't tell me sooner my son was coming home) yet rants himself.
I've ranted to you. I am sorry but going to bed last night without him dominating my thoughts and my anger and fury at him, well, thank goodness that the Red Queen is a good yarn.
I was a victim when I was with him. I told you that. I told you that funny (ha ha ha) day the council came round to see if it was true that the landlord was evicting his son and I cried and the foca said 'you're such a victim' and I said 'if I'm a victim, you're a bully' 'victim' 'bully' back and forth for endless minutes.
A few years ago I decided I wouldn't be a victim anymore and bizarrely that's when he started accusing me of bullying.
Do you think his wife was sitting next to him when he was sending me his 2000 odd word text?
In truth I don't care, I just want to end this post now. I've enough of him, really, lots.
Oh, our son wasn't disappointed his dad didn't show. Indeed, he was so scared about what his dad would do or say about him telling me about the bullying accusations that he cried and begged me to take him swimming myself. I said no, the support worker was coming (doh) and it would be good for him to see his dad, talk to him about what happened.
The foca sends me untruths about myself. He's not listened to me since the day our son was born. I've stopped listening to him now. He can talk all he likes, text, email. If it gets too much I'll go to one of the women's centres and get some advice.
What you should do if you're going through similar or of course, worse.
Legal Aid's been cut for families.
Sound Off For Justice(.org)
Next week doesn't suit - I have to take my boy swimming.
I didn't think I had to take my boy swimming yesterday, his dad takes him the weekends they don't see each other, but guess what? He didn't turn up.
Again.
You don't know it's 'again', you don't know the texts I have sent him in the past asking him to let me know if he's not going to make it. You don't know that the last time he didn't show I said 'that's it, Monday's are over' and a big row ensued so I said one more chance.
Yesterday I sent a text and said that unless a cab was outside my door, he wasn't taking our boy swimming on Mondays again. I would confirm in an email. I sent the text at 5, the email half an hour later.
At 10.15 I yawn thinking I shall take myself to bed with the book I'm reading (Red Queen by Philippa Gregory) when my phone goes, and goes again, and tells me I have too many messages and to delete. It's the Foca. I start to read but there's so much of it, I delete it and more comes and more I have to delete so I text him and say"I've no space 4 your texts so I delete them" then more comes about me ignoring or deleting and my phone again tells me to delete (because it's got low memory and I've got pictures on it) so I make some space and text:
" I've told you again and again my phone can't take long messages but again and again you send them. Just leave me alone. It's late."
The fucking gall of what he sends next:
"If I could leave you alone I would - we have a son - and you choose to act in a manner to drive us apart - then choose to delete or ignore my response due to the time of day - forgive me if I set my priorities differently and put my son above my need for sleep or ability to scroll through messages on a phone"
Er..who's messages?
Fuck..you missed the summer. The night he bombarded me with texts about how it was his weekend with our son (who'd seen him the weekend before) and how I was "a liar who doesn't co-operate". I forwarded that text back to him at the end of that 'text row'.
Then he didn't bring our son back from Ireland on the Monday as promised. When did he let me know my son wasn't coming back? 9.30 at night. Said he'd just got home. I texted 'That's no excuse' (for not letting me know) I emailed him because my phone couldn't take it and shit flew back. I wanted to ignore it but took umbrage at the word "bully" - that I am a bully - and told the foca that our son had told me that his dad had called him a bully and didn't want me to tell the foca that I knew because he was scared he'd get into trouble. "Are you going to tell your mother [I called you a bully]?" his dad apparently said to which my son had replied "No"
"Sticks and stones can break my bones
Your words will just bounce back at you"
The final line of my email.
Silence, until last night. I'd share his patronising message with you - I have it, he sent it to my email. That's flash phones for you.
How many characters in a text? 140? Like a tweet?
His text to me (you know how when they are too big they cut half way through a word or cut on the first letter of the next word..) Anyway, his text was (fuck, this is going to take me ages)
672 characters but I've only counted 3 out of the 8 paragraphs that copied in as email.
I have not, will not respond. He accuses me of ranting (not in this one, the reply to my text asking why he couldn't tell me sooner my son was coming home) yet rants himself.
I've ranted to you. I am sorry but going to bed last night without him dominating my thoughts and my anger and fury at him, well, thank goodness that the Red Queen is a good yarn.
I was a victim when I was with him. I told you that. I told you that funny (ha ha ha) day the council came round to see if it was true that the landlord was evicting his son and I cried and the foca said 'you're such a victim' and I said 'if I'm a victim, you're a bully' 'victim' 'bully' back and forth for endless minutes.
A few years ago I decided I wouldn't be a victim anymore and bizarrely that's when he started accusing me of bullying.
Do you think his wife was sitting next to him when he was sending me his 2000 odd word text?
In truth I don't care, I just want to end this post now. I've enough of him, really, lots.
Oh, our son wasn't disappointed his dad didn't show. Indeed, he was so scared about what his dad would do or say about him telling me about the bullying accusations that he cried and begged me to take him swimming myself. I said no, the support worker was coming (doh) and it would be good for him to see his dad, talk to him about what happened.
The foca sends me untruths about myself. He's not listened to me since the day our son was born. I've stopped listening to him now. He can talk all he likes, text, email. If it gets too much I'll go to one of the women's centres and get some advice.
What you should do if you're going through similar or of course, worse.
Legal Aid's been cut for families.
Sound Off For Justice(.org)
Monday, 5 September 2011
Abandoning my cause
I was all prepared to write "I'm sorry everybody"
I'm sorry because I'm going to abandon my fight for housing
I'm going to abandon all the work I put in, the letters I sent, the articles I wrote, the companies I contacted.
I can't do it anymore. It's easier to fight for others while I'm fighting for myself but I can't fight for myself. Anymore.
I have to let it go.
Support worker will come this afternoon to close my file, whatever that means and I'll get depressed tonight because I always do when reminded of the futility of my situation.
However, while I thought how guilty I felt and how sorry I was for abandoning all I've put in so far, I thought that if an opportunity regarding housing, presents itself, I will take it.
Even if I'm scared, I'll pretend I'm not and I'll just do what's asked of me.
Guardian Housing are discussing welfare reform and how it will affect housing providers from midday today. I'll log on and comment perhaps.
Perhaps I should change my username on the Guardian Housing boards.
First step in shrugging off the fear of personal consequences.
I'm not going to apologise for abandoning my cause because I'm not convinced I'm going to abandon it just as I'm not convinced I can abandon it.
I should strive to be that woman, whoever she is, immortalised in the university town of Coimbra in Portugal.
I should tell myself I am her.
I should feel that I am her.
As you should if there is something you must fight for.
(and yay stiggers, we've uploaded our very first photo!!)
Fresh Starts
"I can't remember what to do on the first day back at school mamma," says my boy as we walk the walk to school.
"Oh just keep your head down and don't annoy the teacher. You don't want her remembering your name for the wrong reason on your first day.." (although have just remembered he's already singled himself out for talking while she was when they visited the class last term. Whoops - he's one that gets caught my boy, just like I used to..the apple indeed never falls far from the tree)
"No, I mean in the playground before the bell goes,"
"Oh, just stand by me until you spot one of your friends then go and play!"
"Then I won't see you for 80 hours mamma,"
Then the bell goes and I can't believe we didn't make it in before it because we were up so early and left in good time.
Last night I asked the arch angels to look after my boy, look after him, look out for him.
OK, I admit, I asked the arch angels to look after me too.
I have to present myself to the job centre on Friday to be taken off income support and placed on job seekers. The actions I am taking for work now I shall keep in my pocket for when I have to "prove" I'm looking. Failure to "prove" and I lose my benefits don't I?
Support worker is coming round this afternoon, he I have not seen for yonky donkey years, to "close [my] case"
I'm still in the same situation though; statutorily homeless and he is still part of the homeless households support team.
What does it mean exactly, my case being closed? Am I not eligible for social housing anymore?
I shall have to ask.
That's the thing with fresh starts. You can want them, you can chase them but there's always the reminder, for one such as myself, that it's just an illusion. The foundations are so insecure, like walking over floating blocks to get to the other side of the river.
Not for my son though. Year 4!! New teacher!! Same school, same friends, I thank the Universe for that, for him. His foundations are secure for all the new things that he is to experience and learn.
I understand within myself what I have to do - make a dash for it - and if I can just stop being frightened of falling in, I may just fly.
You know?
I don't know.
I Don't Know but I Want To.
Yeah?
"Oh just keep your head down and don't annoy the teacher. You don't want her remembering your name for the wrong reason on your first day.." (although have just remembered he's already singled himself out for talking while she was when they visited the class last term. Whoops - he's one that gets caught my boy, just like I used to..the apple indeed never falls far from the tree)
"No, I mean in the playground before the bell goes,"
"Oh, just stand by me until you spot one of your friends then go and play!"
"Then I won't see you for 80 hours mamma,"
Then the bell goes and I can't believe we didn't make it in before it because we were up so early and left in good time.
Last night I asked the arch angels to look after my boy, look after him, look out for him.
OK, I admit, I asked the arch angels to look after me too.
I have to present myself to the job centre on Friday to be taken off income support and placed on job seekers. The actions I am taking for work now I shall keep in my pocket for when I have to "prove" I'm looking. Failure to "prove" and I lose my benefits don't I?
Support worker is coming round this afternoon, he I have not seen for yonky donkey years, to "close [my] case"
I'm still in the same situation though; statutorily homeless and he is still part of the homeless households support team.
What does it mean exactly, my case being closed? Am I not eligible for social housing anymore?
I shall have to ask.
That's the thing with fresh starts. You can want them, you can chase them but there's always the reminder, for one such as myself, that it's just an illusion. The foundations are so insecure, like walking over floating blocks to get to the other side of the river.
Not for my son though. Year 4!! New teacher!! Same school, same friends, I thank the Universe for that, for him. His foundations are secure for all the new things that he is to experience and learn.
I understand within myself what I have to do - make a dash for it - and if I can just stop being frightened of falling in, I may just fly.
You know?
I don't know.
I Don't Know but I Want To.
Yeah?
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