24/11/2010

What is it they say about mixing business and pleasure?

My mum is almost done sorting  the paperwork  but last week she called to ask me to get some documents from her and my dad’s house and give it to her friend from work – who had the remaining half of these documents – who would then send them to her. I did as instructed. Found the documents, put them in an envelope and labelled them, then since I didn’t know where her friend lived – I also didn’t have any money to go anywhere that day – I called her to ask if she would come to where I live and pick them up. She said she was at work, but that I should send them by post, she would get them the next day anyway. Right, I hanged up and as I was preparing to leave for the post office my mum called. She said since I’m giving the documents to her friend I might as well also give her some money to send the documents with because she didn’t want to give the impression that we were just using her when really I could go and get the rest of the documents myself and send them. Fair enough, but I told her the only money left in my account was the money I was saving for food. She assured me that it’s OK to use it because she would send me some to spend anyway. Great. And off I went.

I sent the documents, deposited the money in mum’s friend account (FedEx rates are disgusting) and sent her a text to say it was all done. She didn’t reply for a week. In fact, since we started communicating and essentially since I was introduced to her on the phone by my mum she sent me only three texts. One to say yes it was OK for her to have the documents, two to ask me which documents were they exactly because her house was in a mess so she needed to know which ones to find them quickly, three to give me her account details. Now I do understand that she was doing us a favour, but my mum says she’s her best friend from work. Meaning, favour or not she would go out of her way to do this for her good friend, no? So why was she acting like I needed to do everything and she needed to be spoon fed every little detail about the favour? She came off to me as the kind of person who says they’re your very good friend but uses it to manipulate you, since after all you can’t do anything because she’s your very good friend. Am I making sense?

A week later my mum sends me email to thank me and say the documents have arrived, and that I should also thank her  friend. But why didn’t the friend send me a text to say she’s sent them? Attached with the email was a copy of the FedEx receipt. I looked at it and saw that the she spent less money than I had calculated. Seeing that at exactly that time I had £0.37 in my account and was not feeling well after catching a cold I decided to give her a text to ask if she could put the remaining amount in my account. I was desperate, there was no food in the house, I was ill and my mum’s transactions to my account would take a day or two at best – that is if she got the time to get off her busy schedule at all. So I sent mum’s friend a text, said thanks and asked very nicely about the rest of the money. She didn’t reply. Three days later I sent another text. No reply. Another two days, text from me, nothing from her. At this point I’m feeling awfully ill. I wait a further three days. Nothing. A week, I’m literally starving and livid, I decided to send her a text every single day until she does something about the money. I do this for four days. No reply, then on the fifth day she sends a very short text saying not to worry, she’ll put the money in my account when she goes ‘there’. This was a very incoherent text, it took me ages to decipher what exactly she typed – mainly because I don’t use text speak and she does. When she goes there? Where? To the bank? Home? Where the fuck?

So I thought, woman, not to worry? It’s been almost two weeks! And you didn’t even bother replying! I mean had she replied and told me of any difficulties she was having then I would have understood, but she went silent on me. Again, as above, acting along the lines of since I’m a very good friend then it’s alright. No it’s not alright. It’s not alright because it’s not your money and you don’t communicate. You are also just assuming that everything is well on the other side. I mean I don’t expect her to know that I didn’t have any money but in these financial times  why take for granted what people are going through? I was really angry especially because I wasn’t eating at all and was ill at the same time. Fever, headaches, period, the lot.  So I was just walking around feeling like every bit of energy being drained out of me.

On the same day that she sent me this text, she sent my mum email. I knew about this because I was the first to read it – I have my mother’s password, she gave it to me for when she is very busy, yeah I don’t know, my mum just likes things done for her sometimes but these are the perks. Anyway in the email this woman went to town with the ranting. She kept on reminding my mum of  all the things she’d ever done for her, how good friends they were and then kept reminding her wether she had ever asked for money from her? I don’t like your daughter’s messages she went on. Why would I steal your money? I don’t want your money. Have I ever taken money from you and never given it back? She continues and then goes on to say how she didn’t like the situation at all, that she was not happy with the way I was going about things.

Now I knew I was dealing with something else. My texts did not mention anywhere the words steal, stealing, keep or even took and want. My texts were basic polite requests along the lines of ‘could you please,’  ‘it would be great if you could,’  ‘is it possible’, ‘just wondering,’…I was essentially begging this woman, so where did she get this thought that I wa accusing her of stealing money? She also reminds my mum about their good friendship and how she’s never taken any money from her. Yes, that’s her, my mum. Now you are dealing with me, her daughter, two different people and I’m not your good friend. So don’t apply the same rules because you’ve never met me and we have never had to deal with money or other issues between us, we don’t have that history. That alone should make you deal with me differently. You are not happy, so am I, in fact my blood is boiling because you are taking things for granted.

With the powers bestowed upon me by my mum to be in receipt of her email password, I sent a generic ‘I’m sorry about my daughter’s behaviour’ email. I know my mum, this is exactly what she would have done. I then went to my phone and sent another generic text saying my mum just called me and I’m sorry if I caused any offence. I backtracked on my initial stance of asking for the money every single day until she gave in because a.) I was very poorly and didn’t want any more stress b.) I figured this is how she wanted to play the game, with her very good friend syndrome, maybe she wanted to be begged and cajoled?

Five days now, still no money or a text from her. I’ve heard it’s going to snow later in the week, I hope it won’t in these parts because if it gets too cold and I don’t have any food? Argh…I want to smash some windows or cut my hair or something. These are the so-called friends people have. I boggle at her behaviour. Why do people do this? So they can have a hold on their friends? I’ve never held on to my friends’ money even though we were good friends. Money is money, I treat it like it is. I’m of the opinion that you never know what people need to do with money, so if you owe a friend some money, give it back as soon as you can and if you can’t tell them early on why you can’t, chances are even though they need it very much, they’ll understand. What’s so difficult about that? But when someone goes about testing a friendship with these cheap money tactics it becomes irritating.

29/10/2010

I live with a bunch of loonies – well some of them. Let me first eliminate the non-loonies:

A meat loving Brazilian couple who judged by their frequent mirth filled weekend evenings with visiting fellow countrymen seem to be a very fun-loving couple on restrain mode . Restrained because in this  shared flat, they can’t always do what they want, and they too definitely – I can tell – consider some of the housemates loopy. The girl’s english is not well, as she told me. She’s probably 1.99% fluent.

Now to loony number one. She’s a witch. Honestly, even this petty girl does not compare to her. Why am I even comparing? This witch is, in the literal sense, an old witch! I can’t tell but I’m guessing  she’ll  soon  be welcoming her 60s. A fact that continues to puzzle me day on end. What is she doing here? Doesn’t she have a family? There was talk of a daughter and a son a while ago  but I didn’t get the details because at that point I had decided to switch off whenever we found each other in the kitchen or any other communal area. I never even say hello sometimes. It may sound harsh but her behaviour towards me has been very weird. I moved in and she  seemed so friendly, showing me around and telling me I was free to use her stuff in the kitchen as long as I cleaned everything afterwards.  I do this for about a week, next thing I know, she’s marching in the kitchen at every opportune moment muttering about ‘there’s somebody ‘ere stealing my things’ or ‘using my things without my permission’ at which moment I point that I don’t know who said culprit is and I’m only using the things she let me use. My statement is then followed by a blank silence before either one of use walks back to their room. That bothered me but I reckoned at her age, her head was just doing things so I didn’t think any think of it. You can imagine how pissed I was when she started accusing me of pilfering her food, and her other kitchen paraphernalia. I fumed and told  her where to put her stuff.

I mean, for the love of Jesus, just toddle off! I literally starve these days, just about surviving on baked beans and frozen rice and then she comes at me with this stupidity. Fucking ridiculous. At this point I’ve got nothing to lose and I really can not tolerate bollocks because I’m just thinking about survival.

Once I stopped acknowledging her, she grasped a hint but alas, this hasn’t curbed her crazy. She still hovers around the house complaining about anything and everything to anyone who’ll tolerate her waffle. And she’s always going on about the cleaning, which, since I moved here , I’ve never seen her lift a finger to do!

Then there is the two Italian sisters with their penchant for taking up the whole  kitchen space preparing their meals. Oh, and their track suit wearing mother who’s been ‘visiting’ them since last month. Don’t get me wrong, but you don’t visit your daughters for a whole month knowing fully well they live in a cramped, and shared space. I mentioned this in an email to The Italian on the first week I moved in and he was quick to assure me that “we don’t behave like that in Italy bella. We are very considerate people”.  They are also very loud. On a given day, if they feel like it, they would start at around 7 am in the morning…up and down the stairs, shouting, talking, shouting, talking, munching, blocking up the kitchen space, more talking and munching. One of the sisters is of the passive aggressive stock; just like this annoying female, she leaves notes all over the house for people to read. I mean, what happened to talking to people about things in the house? She doesn’t seem to have a problem making noise for everyone the rest of the time!

Needless to say, I feel harassed when I’m somewhere in the house, in the company of this lot.

21/10/2010

For two weeks I’ve heard only £5 with me. I bought milk on Monday and spent £2 on a Starbucks coffee while out with BB because he said to share, and I don’t want to look like a leech. But he knows I don’t have any money! So why would he ask that?

Yesterday evening I made fried rice, had it with baked beans and fish cakes. Random combination I know, but I’m eating everything that is in the house just to fill my body so that I don’t starve. Speaking of starving, I’ve had only one meal a day, for two weeks now. I don’t count breakfast because it’s useless. Sometimes it’s just two pieces of toast or a small slice of cheap cake. Oh, I spiced the rice with chillies and rosemary, just to make it taste…nicer?

I now have £0.50 until next week when I get £150 which I’ll have to pay £120 towards my weekly rent, after that I’m supposed to economise the £30 for about three weeks.

Reasons for all that?  I don’t have a job..again! And my mother’s left for work abroad, which was supposed to bring a glimmer of hope in our lives but has turned into yet another source of trouble. There is a lot of paperwork to sort out before she starts getting paid – I was relying on this to keep me going for the time being. I feel like our family is going nowhere, every decision we make no matter how hopeful turns out to be a deadend or a massive struggle before we see any  payback. And I blame my dad! Yes my dad. I might sound like I’m putting too much on him, but there is a huge story I haven’t told on this blog about how he is the cause all of this to us. I’ll tell when all’s well. When this is just a nightmare of the past. But, when will that be? Next year? The year after? Probably never because things never seem to be OK with me.

I’m very scared now especially with my mum away. I have no one and morbid as this may sound but I worry about dying. Alone. Here in this pitiful state. Since she left I’ve heard numerous dizzy spells and felt so weak, I had to grab onto something when walking up and down the stairs of the new shared flat that I moved in. The flat where everyone seems to be cooking and consuming sumptuous dishes! Where I feel harassed. I get into the kitchen and it’s always a case of ‘don’t put that there, you must leave this here’…argh. I don’t care where the bloody vacuum cleaner should be. Honestly.

With BB now I feel used, exploited, whatever other synonyms you know, use them here. I feel like I’m getting nothing out of it. He goes and comes when he pleases. But I’m needy. I literally have no one to talk to, and the little company and physical contact he gives me makes me feel human. Of course he doesn’t know how needy I am because I don’t show it. But, I’m falling apart.

I know I’ve heard very bad times in the past, but these so far are my darkest. I want so bad to get out of here, I’d give anything.

20/03/2010

I’m well and truly knackered. Yesterday I had breakfast at 7 ish. Went to uni and spent the whole day there. We had this workshop that was running the whole day. I enjoyed myself despite being hungry through out. During breaks I didn’t have any money on me, couldn’t go home to grab something (no bus fare) so spent that time in the library suppressing my hunger pangs. Got home at around 6 ish in the evening, made a simple pasta dish and promptly went to sleep. Woke up at around midnight with terrible stomach pains. Took some painkillers, read a chapter from Love Nest by Julia Llewellyn (yeah I read such) then went to bed again. I still have some stomach pains. Sometimes I don’t understand my body at all. I’ve had very many problems due to not eating well, and most of the times it really scares me. I know stress plays it’s part too. My GP started me on a daily iron intake mid last year because since mid 2006 I’ve been terribly anaemic, partly due to very heavy periods and of course not eating well.  I was also diagnosed with PCOS last year, something which I try not to think about and  my GP who refused to put me on any medication since I’m not overweight (far from it), or showing any other symptoms of this condition, except maybe crippling period pains, which most of the times are not related to PCOS anyway says medication is not really necessary as he doesn’t see it affecting anything at the moment. Anyway, I do try my best to keep my body in top condition.

I also learnt that I passed the first part of my project yesterday. I’m very pleased. If things go well with this project I’m working on, I might even end up with a 2:1. Not bad for a struggling little miss like me I guess. It probably shows I’m capable of doing far better without all the stress around me.

05/03/2010

I’ve been very busy in the past few  two days working on my project. I needed this to keep myself from thinking about how much I’m going to miss Fish come April. We talked yesterday and I felt at ease because it didn’t feel like it was the end after all. He’s taught me the importance of being a perfectionist. Of wanting the best. I’m going to strive for that. My uni work seems to be going well if not a tad bit slow. I don’t know what it is with people in my university but no one seems to want to help. They are cocooned in their little cliques and if they don’t know you, they just won’t help. It’s unbelievable how frustrating this is, especially for a course like mine where working on a practical project, no matter how suited to an individual it is, one needs to have a little help here and there. I’ve just had about enough of it and I can’t wait to graduate. I have my fingers crossed that anyone I approach for help, will at least do so. I need a good grade because I really, in the literal sense can not afford to fail. I just need a degree to able to even at best hope for a different life from what I have right now.

Which brings me to something else: money. I’ve come to that point in my life where when I hear anyone say that money can not buy you happiness I get this sudden animalistic urge to smack them. That is a lie. Money can buy you happiness, fuck what you heard. I’m living proof. If you have money, you buy things that you love, you go to places you love. Subsequently, if you love something  that means it makes you happy. You a re happy. It’s as simple as that and I don’t want anyone telling me otherwise. In fact I’m starting to believe it’s only rich people who say this to poor people to keep them in their place. I will not be one of those poor people. I don’t want to be obscenely rich. I just want a decent life. Ugh. I hate being poor. Right now for instance I’m contemplating if I’ll have enough money to buy materials for my project. It’s ludicrous. There are bills coming my way in about two weeks. I have food to think of. This is not the kind of life anyone should be living and I don’t believe that anyone can be happy in my situation, I don’t care what explanations they give.

So, I’m going to bed hoping to wake up very early tomorrow so I can bury myself in work to prevent me from thinking about my life or money for that matter. My fridge is empty  and I’m not even sure I’m going to have a single proper meal tomorrow. My bank account, well I have £0.33 in balance.