volcanic's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- life is sweet I feel calmer today. That's a good thing. For a start, I feel calmer about moving: I'm really looking forward to going. I'm still unsure as to how the money's all going to work itself out, but it's going to, I know it. I have total faith in the process, even if it does sound a bit hippy-dippy and all that shit. This is what I really want to be doing- going off somewhere beautiful, having the fresh start I've dreamt of in years, and having the luxury of time to study something that I love. It's a bit of a treat, isn't it? Moving is feeling easier, I'm getting little bits done, here and there, and then I can stand back and think, actually, I've got lots done today. Today I had to go and do business in town, to get some money off the DSS, which I'm entitled to and all that, being a single parent and so on, but oh- the beurocracy is mind-numbing. My mum says that's why a lot of "intelligent" people don't bother claiming the state benefits to which they're entitled, because the claim process is an insult to their intelligence. Personally, I'm not sure that I totally agree, because plenty of intelligent people sadly have life events which give them no choice but to claim, but I understand where she's coming from... Then I rang British Telecom to organise the installation of a phone line in the mobile home. This was not as straightforward as it should have been, because apparently, my new address wasn't appearing on the database. If any of you out there work in customer-service jobs which rely on a computerised database of addresses, I would love to know how this happens. I can understand newly-built properties not being there, but mine is old, well-established, and surrounded by several other mobile homes that alreday have phones. Anyway, Shakila, the lady who answered my call, was amazing: she stayed on the line for at least half-an-hour after her shift had ended, determined to find my address. When the appointments lady rang,a little later, to arrange the time the engineer will call, she offered to pass my praise onto Shakila manager. Obviously, I gushed and gushed in true volcanic style to Shakila about how fab she was, but, having worked in customer services myself, I know how fab it is when the praise gets passed down from management. The van's been booked, the packing continues; my life's in a state of flux and it doesn't feel too bad. Of course, there's still the matter of Bob. Bob's ace. I like Bob lots. Bob's nearing the end of his nurse training, and wants to give it his best shot. So we're both thinking that occasional rendezvous will be pleasant distractions for both of us. If it'll work out in practice- I don't know yet, but I suspect that we're going to give it a go. This man is very lovely. he's had a rough time- a really rough time- and yet appears to have come through it with strength, wisdom and a lot of dignity. I like that. He's not a victim, he's not bitter, he's just worked incredibly hard at re-establishing his stability, security and positive outlook. He's also delicious! 6' tall, shaved head, nice glasses, those wonderful capable forearms and a constant line in stimulating conversation. And he really likes me- I can't quite believe it (except I can, inside!) And he's going to expand my hard drive and give me 20gigs of MP3s to take away with me. See- things here aren't so bad, after all. Sleep helps, and I've been getting lots of it (with a few welcome distractions!) I somehow appear to have lost a stone in the past month, which is not ideal, but it does mean the lace-up, dirty denim, kickflare jeans I bought today look stunning. Especially with the leopard-print chiffon top I got for four quid in a sale today. I need a night out- does anyone fancy babysitting? 8:44 a.m. - 21.08.02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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