This is totally going to be a poor me poor me (pour me another drink) kind of post. I am sorry, but sometimes you just have to vent.
Things That Have Been Über Pants This Week
1) Getting a shitty letter from my credit card company. This requires a bit of backstory. We got a huge tax bill a few weeks ago, which we ended up paying on the credit card. Like plebs. Why we didn’t have the foresight to call HMRC and work out a payment plan is now beyond me. I guess because you always hear of people going to prison for not paying their tax and Ross and I are a bit scared of the Tax Man. Now, we can’t afford to make the repayments the credit card people are asking for, and they have sent me a letter which made me cry yesterday. In hindsight, that is definitely when things began to spiral out of control.
2) Giving up the lease on our office. It’s been a long time coming, but Skysoclear HQ is no more. After getting the aforementioned letter from the credit card people, I lost the plot a little and screeched that the office had to go before crumbling in a snotty heap on the floor and banging my fists on the carpet. It’s broken my heart a little, I loved that office. I had such grand plans for it. All I could think about when I was there this morning was the time Dee and I met up early one Saturday morning, bought some white paint, and secretly painted it a lovely fresh white. We put on some music and made it look lovely. Ross was so happy. I wanted us to paint our logo on the wall in grey. I wanted to have a map of the world, and big prints of bikes hung up on the wall. I wanted the phone to ring off the hook and for us to be busy and successful.
Instead, Ross is back to working out of our bedroom, and applying for full time jobs, and I am left with a miniscule food budget and wondering how the fuck we are going to pay our rent this month.
3) Dealing with clients that do not want to pay their invoices. Every year we get a client who ends up being a huge douchebag. The kind who really commandeer the Douche Canoe and paddle it frequently in and out of the Tool Shed. And the funny thing is, it’s generally not a lot of money. You have an invoice, fucking pay it, or we’ll take down your honking website. You can’t have the penny AND the bun, sunbeam. One very terse email sent to counteract the very empty threats of a lawsuit (what, because you didn’t pay for your hosting that we provided?) and the money is sitting in our account, but it’s still more than I wanted to deal with this week, and their ridiculous threat left Ross really shaken. I had to give him a shot of hard liquor and send him out for a bike ride to calm down.
4) Not having money in our bank account to be able to buy Roo some tights for school, or even food for the week. And we shop at Aldi. You know it’s a sorry state of affairs when you become that skint. My kid’s legs were all goosebumpy on Wednesday morning. I feel like Erin Brockovich before she got her job, minus the roach infestation and neck brace. On the upside, I am becoming very good at cooking up feasts with tins of chickpeas and tomatoes.
5) Lastly, I am unwell. It all came on really suddenly last night. I was in bed asleep by 9:30. At two, Elliot scrambled in next to me for his usual night time boob grope/breastfeed, and I woke up again at 4am, gasping for a drink but not having the energy to even shuffle into the bathroom and shove my face under the tap. At the office today, I meandered around generally being a bit unhelpful and then demanded to be taken home because I thought I might actually pass out. Needless to say, I am typing this from my bed with locozade and chocolate to hand. I can’t seem to sleep (probably the caffeine in the lucozade) and I have a hacking cough. Ball sacks.
If you’ve got this far in such a woeful post, then thank you, and I am sorry if I’ve depressed you.
So, pour me another drink… But please make it a honey and lemon.