So, I moved again, and not before time! Deans Road was something akin to a rathole, but.. it served its purpose, which was to afford me shelter as I attempted to survive the decision I took to leave Holland and Esther behind. I ate there, slept there and when the water and heating actually worked, kept myself clean and semi functional. 5 and a half months later and the opportunity came to leave, and I took it.
I’m still in the area, but in a satellite town called Bilston, actually only a few minutes walk from The Robin2, which is cool given Hazel O’Conner is playing there again in a few weeks. Therapy? play too in Wolves today. I’m far enough from Wolves that I’m likely to save a few quid a week in not nipping into the Giff when I’m off, which is nice. Everything about the place is far far better than where I was asides from if my lift vanishes from work. Even then it’s not THAT bad as the tram can drop me straight into town easily enough.
The Therapy gig should be good. Lots of ouchy songs though. They’re playing the whole of the Infernal Love album, so songs like Stories, A brief moment of Clarity, and especially 30 seconds might slap me about a bit. “There is a light at the end of the tunnel!” Hmm.. ! It’s fair to say I’m a tad emotional this week. The 7th looms on the horizon and I know myself. It’ll be a day to steer clear of everyone and try not to think about anything. Wedding anniversaries are supposed to be something very different to what this will be, and I know .. I know.. the first time is always the hardest, but it would’ve been 8 years ffs. I gave, and gave up, so much of me. I still haven’t recovered trust in myself and my judgement. It’s 6 months tomorrow since the divorce was confirmed and usually I can shake off anything without much bother. But this… and how it’s left me. I think about it and my eyes give me away instantly. Anguish engulfs me. Waves of sorrow at my own stupidity, mixed with apoplectic anger at her, and I struggle to hold it together.
>Work still hasn’t offered me the transition from temp to permanent, and it appears the reason for this is that I took a day off for the death of Glenda. Marvellous. I am not impressed, for want of stronger words. Bite your tongue and keep your head down still seems to be the only course of action for now, which is something I’m slowly getting used to as a way of life in there. There’s the chance of an associates’ voice position that I’m tempted to enquire about but it’s perhaps not the best thing to be going for while in a mildly confrontational frame of mind.
Right… given it’s snowing out there… time for a few games of tanks! Until next time..