Mon 24th April 2017

I've been at the girls' house all weekend. In the garden, chatting with them as Lancashire v Somerset burbles away on the radio. Back here, the private tears again. I'm worried about what's going to happen in a few weeks' time, when I won't have anywhere to live. I can't afford anywhere here. I have no money for the deposit even on a room, and I'll have to give away all my furniture and white goods. I am trying to get a job but time is running out. There is no council housing round here for a single man.

Wendy is coming round tomorrow morning and I want to welcome her with some nice things to eat. I have set my alarm for 7am -- a pointless precaution, since I'll be worrying wide awake long before then, and I'll look worn out, dark-ringed, panda-eyed for her -- not that how I look will ever alter her total lack of sexual and relationship interest in me.

I will go to Sainsbury's and get the things I need so that I can make something to present to her. The sadness knowing that all effort with her is useless. I want to make one of the last times we'll sit uselessly distant at this house, knowing that we will always be distant wherever we will be, uselessly nice for her. My useless canapés. Forty useless pounds left in my account. A successfully useless smile tomorrow, thanking her uselessly for our little factory-stamp clamp-release hello. My useless cooking for her. My useless love, which she doesn't want. My useless knowledge of this. My useless efforts at resigning myself to this.

4 comments

Comment from: Exile on Pain Street [Visitor]

Ruts are useless.

Mon 24th April 2017 @ 19:04 Reply to this comment

Comment from: looby [Visitor]

I know. So how do I get out of it? Please tell me how.

Tue 25th April 2017 @ 02:43 Reply to this comment

Comment from: kono [Visitor]

I’d like to tell you i had the answers my friend but sadly i do not… the only thing you can do is get on with things, try to swing a job no matter how shitty, try to swing a place even if it’s just a couch, you’re a smart man, don’t spend your time worrying spend it figuring out how to get what you need by means legal or otherwise, and while Wendy is a nice distraction she’s the only thing that’s useless here unless it’s for something akin to comfort or company, having spent my fair share of nights on the floor it comes down to breaking it up into manageable parts, (i’m starting to sound like some fucked-up self help guru), sort out one thing then move to the next, you’ll be alright mate, just use that charm and wit and intelligence, you’ll get it sorted…

Tue 25th April 2017 @ 19:09 Reply to this comment

Comment from: looby [Visitor]

Yep, one thing at a time. I was a bit down yesterday but I think things might be OK if I can get on this new course. And it would stop me obsessing about Wendy all the time.

Wed 26th April 2017 @ 20:32 Reply to this comment

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looby, n.; pl. loobies. A lout; an awkward, stupid, clownish person

M / 60 / Bristol, "the most beautiful, interesting and distinguished city in England" -- John Betjeman [1961, source eludes me].

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WLTM literate woman, 40-65. Must have nice tits, a PhD, and an mdma factory in the shed, although the first on its own will do in the short term.

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4 comments

looby, n.; pl. loobies. A lout; an awkward, stupid, clownish person

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