I can’t take it any more!!!

If you thought this week had thrown everything it possibly could my way, you would be wrong. Apparently it isn’t enough that I had a car journey from hell and came home to be greeted by a boiler that plays mind games… Nope I am also being terrorized by the worlds biggest spider!!!

Don’t believe me. See for yourself…

Run...save yourselves!!
Run…save yourselves!!

Now I know some of you may want to be funny, like some of my unsympathetic work collages were when shown this terrifying spider, and so comments like “where” and “oh, that little thing” may slip from your lips. But let me point out that picture is taken from the other side of my lounge, and the black dot you see near the ceiling is the spider and the items to the left are my new curtain and curtain rails (I hope you like them) and that curtain rail end splays to cover an area roughly the size of my palm. So now you have a comparison, can I have a bit of God damn respect?!!

Here’s my problem. I don’t like spiders. It has taken over 25 years for me to be able to reach a stage where I can put a cup over them and carry them outside (or chuck them out of the nearest window.) If they are outside, then that is fine. That is there home and I leave them alone, all I ask is for the same respect.

This one has broken that treaty. Actually it is not the first as I have had one that has reappeared in the corner of my fire every other day for a few weeks. Each time it appeared I politely asked it to ‘go away and never return’ and *touch wood* it has listened to me this time.

However I do not feel like carrying this one outside in a glass and nicely asking it to leave – for one thing it doesn’t fit it any of the glasses I own!!Also I do have a kind of unwritten rule whereby if I can count the hairs on its legs then I can get someone else to sort it while I run from the room screaming like a girl!!

Last time this spider showed it’s hairy giant face it was thrown out by my lovely brave daddy. (Just one of many reasons my daddy is a hero!!) However now the bugger is back, and took great pleasure in mocking me while I enjoyed my breakfast this morning .

Or at least it did. It walked across the wall, from one corner to another, paused for this photo and then vanished. I have no idea where the bloody thing has gone.

I am currently searching my phone book to find out who is the closest friend I have who can come and play hunt the spider and get rid of it for me. Half an hour isn’t too long a journey is it? Well it’s either that or I put my house back on the market!

My boiler hates me!

I hate my boiler. My boiler hates me. The feeling is mutual. It wasn’t always, when I first moved in I gave my boiler the benefit of the doubt. The first few times I had no hot water and the central heating turned on FOR NO APPARENT REASON… at 3 o’clock in the morning…. causing me to wake in a hot sweat. I forgave it.

I blamed myself. I thought I had set it up wrong.

So I ventured into the cupboard where it lives to re-asses my settings. I fiddled with the dials. I spoke with love… I spoke with respect…. I spoke with desperation… I spoke with threats. I am now onto at least my 3rd different set up of dial configurations.

Yesterday morning I was in heaven. I had not woken in a sweat in the middle of the night. My house was not freezing as I pulled myself wearily from my bed.

I thought it was sorted. I thought we were friends. I put the past behind me in a happy cloud of warmth and went to work.

When I came back the house was colder than expected. Come 8pm the house was freezing and I was snuggled under about 4 blankets and my big ginger collie. I refused to go upstairs and have it out with my boiler. I decided maybe the silent treatment was the only way it would learn…

And then at 10pm last night the bloody thing turned itself on. Just as I was going to bed it gurgled to life.

I am desperate – can anyone explain why, when the dial looks like this…

Although it may not look like it, this is in fact a torture device!!
Although it may not look like it, this is in fact a torture device!!

My heating has turned itself on?

At this exact moment. If it had turned itself on when it was near one of the dials I would at least have some sort of a clue as to why.

However, as far as I can see there is no Godly reason as to why it turned on at this exact moment – well no reason other than the fact it hates me and wants to see me suffer!

I thought I was a competent woman…

I have a good degree…

I have a good job…

but I may have to admit that the boiler has beaten me. Help!!

I’m back here

Despite declaring it loud and proud to anyone who would listen that I am actually quite content and don’t want ‘a man messing up my house’. I am not fully living that truth. I still miss the ex daily (don’t worry this isn’t going to be another one of those posts) and there are times when I just think how nice it would be to have someone to help put out the washing, load the dishwasher, cook tea after a long day, share money worries.

I know that none of these reasons are good enough reasons to start a relationship, and when I’m not tired/hormonal/it’s dark outside and I’m scared to walk BD alone then I am honestly very happy doing it alone, in fact I have commented how pleased I am to have my little house and how happy I am – the happiest I’ve been for a while.

However, there has been a little male interest in me. I have been asked on a couple of dates and I have made out with a guy.

The problem is the make interest is not from the sorts of guys I should be wanting it from. One of them has openly admitted to not wanting a relationship with me in the past and offered his services if I had an ‘itch that wanted scratching’ the other is well actually pretty much the same, he claims to fancy me despite trying hard not to and is kinda not fully single.

I AM BETTER THAN BOTH THESE GUYS.

But that doesn’t stop me from checking my phone every few minutes hoping one of them has text. It doesn’t prevent me from analysis to death the messages when they do. It doesn’t stop me wanting to run into them when I am looking my best or prevent me from spending an extra few months agonising over what to wear to an event that I know they will both be attending….. and I hate it!

I hate it.

It was one of the many things I loved about being in a relationship. I had done the dating thing. I had lived the single life and before meeting the ex I had decided that I would properly try to find ‘the one’ and was going to start using dating websites in the new year. However, the ex coming along in June of that year put pay to a need for dating sites. Co-habiting with the man I loved was not only amazing and wonderful but for a whole other side of things it meant I was free (at least I was until it all went tits up) I didn’t agonise over texts, I didn’t wonder if a touch was intended or not. I’d been there done that and reached a new exciting place – one with talks of baby’s and plans for retirement……..to be honest I am less than thrilled to be back here.

I know that I don’t want these guys.

I know that I am just enjoying a bit of fun. But it’s not fully fun. Sure I love the attention when I am getting a message and I even enjoy the flutter of butterflies when one of them gives me a look across a room, and I know that the look is intended solely for me. But the rest of the time it’s just a bit poo.

The really annoying thing is I know that this is just the start.

I am going to have months if not years of playing the dating game and a few months in I am already sick of it!

Budgeting – argh!

I know it is very un-English to discuss money, but my blog, my rules, so here goes.

When I took my new job, after the bullying, I took an enormous pay cut and I’m still not financially as well off as I would like. I suppose I am not alone in thinking I should be paid more money for the job I do. But I may surprise you to admit that I actually don’t think my wage is that bad, more I think other people are earning stupid amounts of money for the roles they have and I worry that the cost of living is just to high.

Before it was never much of a problem I have always lived within my means and latterly I have had the support of the ex. He was brilliant in helping me manage my money. I contributed to the household bills and such like, paid rent, bought food; but he only ever asked for a contribution which he knew I could afford. I didn’t sponge off him but in the back of my mind I knew that between us we could cover all our monthly out goings and both put a little into our savings. I knew that if money ever became tight I could ask him to ‘cover me’ and I would pay him back later.

However he has gone and with it I feel I have lost some of that support network. I am not completely alone, I have my parents and I know they would never see me loose the house or go hungry. Hell I’m certain they would give up their house before they let me loose mine. But I don’t want to take money off my parents (plus I am currently indebted to them for more than I would like as they helped with renovation costs!) Suddenly it is up to me to live within a budget, go without things I can’t afford.

I’ll be honest this scares me. I like to think I’m not flash or spoilt – I’d rather spend the day walking with the dogs then spending money shopping. But as I consider stepping out into the dating pool once again I am going to need money. I would like to think on a first date the guy would offer to pay, but I want to be able to cover my share of the tip if needed, and if the date goes well I would like to think I would be able to offer to buy him a drink as a thank you for paying, and as a way to extend the night. The same goes with seeing friends. I know staying in with a bottle of wine doesn’t cost much, but when we are all saving you’ve got the cost of petrol, a bottle of wine, maybe some chocolate…..It all adds up!

Last night I want shopping. I went into Lidl and then Tesco. I stood for ages adding things up, looking for the best deals, taking things off the shelves then putting them back, and yet I spent nearly £70. I knew part of this shop was to stock the cupboards and so my basket contained some staples which I will not have to buy again for a while, like salt, pepper, mixed herbs, oil etc but still that is an awful lot of my food budget blown already. Add to that I then had to fill my car with petrol, another £50 and I am panicked. That’s over £100 in less than 2 hours.

I have bills coming in soon. I have to eat for the rest of the month. I still need to buy key items for the house – fridge freeze, sink, dishwasher (that one’s right at the bottom of the list, more of a nice to have!) I am worried that I’m not going to be able to afford to do this.

I’ve toyed with taking a second job. But by the time taxes are taken, and I am shattered is there any point? Plus when would a second job give me time to see friends, family and BD and Mity?

I was hoping I would be getting a nice pay rise and that I this would mean things would be tight but manageable. That didn’t happen. I’m scared.

Things that go bump in the night

I am not very good in the dark. It is one of the more practical things I miss about the ex. Having him there meant that I wasn’t alone in an evening, and due to his side of the bed being closest to the door, I was aware if anyone broke in in the middle of the night they would have to get through/over/round him (regardless of whether or not he was actually awake) before they could get to me. I even had a plan. As they came in the bedroom door I would make my exit out of the window. I would shimmy down the drain pipe before finding BD and taking him somewhere self before either waking neighbours or calling the police.

Ok, to be honest it probably wouldn’t be in any way that refined. The venetian blinds in the bedroom hated me and I could never get the bloody things open. So while the ex did his night in shining armour bit and fought for my dignity I would have been tugging on the blinds like a crazy woman, calling them every name under the sun and then have to wait for a break in the fight so that he could open the blinds for me.

Once I had overcome that hurdle, the next would have been my fear of heights. I don’t know if even the motivation of a burglar bursting into the bedroom would have got me out on the windowsill. But that didn’t matter, I had a plan!

Now there is just me. No warning bark from BD. No ex to get defend my honour. Just me.

Add to that my over-reactive imagination and it’s a wonder I’m not a gibbering wreck every evening when the sun starts to go down. I lie, I so am. Last night I walked past my kitchen windows trying very hard not to look out into the garden (I still don’t have any blinds!) then worrying that because I hadn’t looked I hadn’t seen the person hiding in the garden so forced myself to look anyway!

My stomach lurches every time I hear a noise.

Then last night as I lay in bed I heard the unmistakable sound of a door slowly opening, followed by the sound of someone climbing up the stairs.

I lay there afraid to move. I lay there afraid to breath.

The rational side of me told myself  “the walls are thin, it’s just the neighbours. And if it isn’t the neighbours all I have to do is scream”.

However,I still couldn’t help but look around my room to decide what would be my weapon when the time came to defend myself…….

I had a TV remote……

I had a hair brush……

I had a cuddly toy……

I’m screwed!