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Thursday, 29 March 2007

moving at last

Have exchanged contracts on both the sale of the house and purchase of the flat. If only I were a younger me. Starting a new life at fifty years old is a trifle daunting. Vile husband is going ahead with the purchase of a flat in the town centre. Well, in my capacity as an estate agent, all I can do is sell him the place, not arrange for him to actually pay the mortgage.
I'm rather concerned that he hasn't seen fit to give me any money for his son's living expenses, even though he now has a paying occupation.
Have spent most of today going back and forth to the charity shop at the top of the road. Waited until son went to school and then dispensed with all the long forgotten items gathering dust under his bed.
Arranged for a cleaning person to go into the flat and make it presentable before I move in. Also had another word with person helping to actually move me. He seemed quite astonished when I told him I had a lot of heavy furniture and it was unlikely he could move it single handed. Did he think I lived here in minimalist splendour? Or is he, like many of his fellow west country men, a bit thick?

Tuesday, 27 March 2007

Bog off down a hole

I should have exchanged contracts on the house sale and flat purchase today. No chance. I can't see how I'll have enough time to clean the place before I move in. The cellar is still full of crap, courtesay of vile husband. I am rather concerned that he hasn't paid any maintenance for his son yet, even though he now has an income. Could it be that he is simply just waiting for me to drop dead through overwork? He never shows any emotion so it's entirely possible that he's nursing some massive grudge and is plotting my demise.
I think I can keep going until I move. It's very difficult though. I'm just so tired and worn out all the time. It's bad enough having three jobs, but being a single mother as well is exhausting.
The shop is going from bad to worse. I really blame most of the co-op members. They sit in there with the door shut. They don't put the board outside and the place looks most unwelcoming. I complained about one of them wanting to leave because she was too successful to one of the others and he said it 'was alright for me' because I'd made plenty of money. It was said in an accusatory kind of way, as if my success is the reason for other's failure. I am sick of it. I would bog off entirely if I didn't have Edward to look after. Find a cosy hole somewhere and bury myself.

Thursday, 22 March 2007

The cats have somewhere to poo at last

I finally succumbed to the stress and took to my bed with a migraine this afternoon. I have recovered but have the 'Hiroshima shadow' of it hovvering over my left eye. I am exchanging contracts on sale and purchase tomorrow and will move two weeks today. Will then divvy up remaining cash with husband and ride off into the sunset on my excercise bike. Edward is pleased that he will have a huge bedroom, the fat cats will be delighted to have a little garden to poo in, and I am just relieved to be saying goodbye to this house.
I've got three commissioned paintings to be picked up from the shop over the weekend. So that should keep me in pasta and wine for a while.
Have found a jolly good chap to mastermind the house move and he only charges £10 an hour.
When I'm in the flat I am going to lie down, close my eyes, and sleep for at least a week.

Sunday, 18 March 2007

ga ga nightmare tackle!!

I feel that I may be going ga ga. I've fed and watered the vile husband throughout the weekend. He's now ensconced in my sitting room watching the grand prix. I am washing and ironing and doing all the other household things I don't have time to do whilst I'm bogged down with my three jobs. I have once again had the temerity to enquire as and when hard cash will be deposited into the bank, and of course it's next week! Why didn't I realise? Yesterday I chose, payed for, and wrapped a Mothers Day present for his mother. Oh what a lovely forgiving girl I am. A person like me would never bear a grudge and plot revenge most foul. It'll be lovely when were all living in our seperate little abodes in Wivey. I'm sure we shall all get together for cosy teas on a regular basis. I, for one, am gathering recipes for the various culinery delights that I shall tempt them with. I've always made cakes with my own recipes and some contain ingredients one wouldn't traditionally expect to find! I went for drinks last night at the home of some friends and have had a troubled night dreaming of them at the nudist camp they told me about. Recently retired tackle flapping around in the breeze is the stuff of nightmares!

Friday, 16 March 2007

Banana Custard Lake

I can't believe it! I actually had a day off today and it felt like being on holiday. I managed to get that idiot I married to go and get a piece of glass cut for my picture. I may as well get some use out of him. Tomorrow I shall have to buy a present for him to give to the grubby grandma for Ma's day. I haven't heard anything from my Ma although I've sent her one of Angela's hand painted silk scarves. From the shop of course. I'll be in the shop practically every day next week, and on the others in the Estate Agents. It's quite amusing seeing the faces of people who know that they know who I am but can't place me. Bruce is a strange lad. He was telling me yesterday that he has recurring dreams about banana custard with huge bananas bobbing in and out of the custard lake. I've told him to stop sniffing the tippex. My day off has been marred by some flamin' bird that had fallen down the chimney and batted about to such a degree that the entire sitting room is covered in a thin layer of soot. The woman who's buying this house came again today. I can't make up my mind about her. I usually decide about people immediately. Maybe that's where I go wrong.

Thursday, 15 March 2007

under my blankie

I've just realised that I haven't posted since the 6th March. I must have been busy! Frankly, I wouldn't be doing it now if it wasn't for the fact that the ridiculous Celebrity Fame Academy has buggered up my soap watching schedule. Tomorrow I must go and get some glass cut for a new painting. I was hoping to get it into the shop today, but tripped over it in the kitchen and the damned thing shattered into a squillion pieces. I really like the picture, it's of the Hancock Brewery Tower in Wiveliscombe. Perhaps not the traditional kind of subject for a painting, but I like it. I don' t suppose anyone will buy it, I never seem to be able to tell what will sell. For instance, there's a really nice painting of Golden Hill in the window, and STILL, someone wants a different view. Well, I shouldn't complain, it'll pay the mortgage. Errant husband has been milking the joint account again. I don't recall taking money out in Watchet. After all I don't have time to visit the seaside. I'm too busy earing money to support him and no doubt that weirdo brother of his. Well, I'm exchanging contracts on this house next week, so when I move and they're all paid off, they can fend for themselves. I got a nice commission yesterday for a 'little cottage' as it was referred to by the American lady in Over Stowey. It would stretch the full length of the mews! I suppose it's all relative. I shall trawl the length and breadth of the country when I'm free for a very old, very rich, very grateful, old man. Then I shall lie down under my blankie and get very, very drunk.

Tuesday, 6 March 2007

Thumbnail Media are not my printers any more

Oh dear! I would appear to be cracking under the strain. I have just learned that divorce and moving house are the two most stressful things one can do. I just happen to be doing them both at the same time. I can manage both successfully as long as I don't get another difficult customer like the one I got today. Having given up my weekend to paint a double portrait and then thoughtfully paid to have it sent special delivery, I arrived home today to a very annoying email which was quite offensive. I always make clear to my customers that they don't have to accept delivery of a painting if they really don't like it. But I think that being that accommodating should shield me from unfair criticism. I was actually criticised because the child I'd painted was coloured 'too harshly' and didn't have enough teeth! I have emailed the blighters to say that I have no control over the number of teeth in their child's mouth and to tell them that I never expect payment for something a customer doesn't like. But when people are so flaming rude it really annoys me. It's not my fault their children are so unattractive. Let's hope they spend the fee on a decent orthodontist.

Monday, 5 March 2007

I'm sick of everything and everyone

I'm almost too tired to 'do' today. I've just spent the last twenty minutes dragging bags of rubbish that were too heavy for me to lift, from the rear balcony where they were thoughfully left for me by that idle git I married! Following a wet and lonely day in the shop yesterday, today I have to go to Burnham-on-Sea to that poxy Nursery again. Why can't she sort them out? For goodness sake, buy food, cook food, deliver food, get food eaten. How difficult can it be? I can't bear to think about the aggravation it's going to be when I have to do all these jobs and organise the move from this house. That is, if I'm not dead from exhaustion first. I have come to the stark realisation lately that there's not a single person who would bother to give me a fraction of the consideration that I give to others. My mother called yesterday to inform me in a loud voice that she WANTS TO SEE HER GRANDSON. Oh well, I'll just drop everything and drive for four hours then shall I? I'm sick of everything and everyone! I'd like to just go back to bed and never wake up again. But instead, I shall go and have a shower, paint my face on, and get on with it.

Sunday, 4 March 2007

I bought his brother a fridge

I am now sure that errant husband has fallen completely out of his tree. I was perusing the old joint bank account yesterday, during a quiet moment of job no 3, and happened upon a purchase made in Comet. Now they don't sell clothes, makeup or food, so I'm guessing I didn't go in there. Anyway, I'm tied to one or another of my jobs during the hours of daylight seven days a week. Could it be a foot spa, or a face steamer, or even a nail polish drying contraption to help the idle git pass the day away? But no, dear reader, he has purchased a fridge for his brother! On hearing this piece of news, I have to record that I was bemused to the point of losing all control of my bodily functions, and made a mental note to wear tena lady pants when next we meet! He did very magnanamously say that he had meant to 'tell me about it'. I of course retorted, 'don't you mean ask me?' 'Well' says he, 'Don't we have an overdraft facility?' So now, I'm obviously expected to support the brother as well! I'm wondering, should I nip over the road to see if their filthy old hag of a mother wants me to buy her anything when I go shopping?
When I take my revenge it will be heard echoing around the Brendon Hills and across Exmoor for many years to come. Watch this space. Oh and by the way, the score so far, me jobs 3 Reptilian bastard slimeball shitface husband, jobs 0. But - he's jot a meeting this week and should get paid by Friday. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH...