Stretched out on the bed
with my laptop and a headache. Momfog will no doubt come flying by now and be disappointed the content doesn’t live up to the heading, as she did when I wrote about Qatar and sex. No risqué writing here, unless you count the “Wake me for a cuddle” motif on my nightie! I’d post a picture but I don’t think anyone needs to be tempted to assess the gravitational pull on certain anatomical structures.
It has been a funny couple of days. I’m battling the “bill blues” and am prepared to part with my headache cheap to raise funds. Any offers? No, I thought not. After all, who wants a headache! I don’t think it is even a give-away possibility, sadly! I’ve sought peace and quiet and left the parenting to Daddy tonight in the hope I will awaken refreshed and ready to tackle the world.
Mr O has finished three of his final exams. Mr O Jnr 2 got promoted to the next class at swimming tonight. Me? I participated in the free Work Health Checks today and got told off for just about every health indicator there is. Good for the Mr Os and bad for me. There was another mix-up by a superannuation company who managed to send forms to me they were supposed to send elsewhere. I wondered why they’d sent them to me, but the forms had “scanned” stamped all over them so I assumed they had what they wanted.
We received a letter from one of the schools tonight seeking the building levy and materials contributions for next year by December 19th. Yuck. I’m going to have to tell them we can’t afford it until Mr O gains employment. I think the book lists alone for next year will run out at about $2,000 let alone these extras. Now that Mr O has finished his course (three more days to go) hopefully employment will follow!! If you happen to need an adult apprentice in the field of horticulture, please pop over to the Contact Us form and invite Mr O to an interview! We knew this six months would be tight financially. I think we under-estimated just how tight given what we had already been through! At least it will be over by the end of the week.
To think we could have bought a house by now if this battle hadn’t cost us an arm, a leg, three toes off the other foot, a pound of flesh and two thumb nails. Every time I think about it, I get mad, so best not to think of it. I asked Is the law an ass? Certainly logic-challenged.
Flat day? Yes, it is. I’m bemoaning the loss of my fitness, the fact the government wrecked my finances and my family here haven’t met my sister and her family yet and I don’t know when we will be able to afford that trip either. We need a larger fridge and I think the washing machine is about to die. The toilet needs loving, tender care from a plumber and I keep forgetting to call the agent about it. I want to fit back into my jeans. I need to have the CT scan for my back/hip but haven’t managed to organise that either.
I’m tired of feeling I am constantly swimming upstream against a very strong current! I need a rest. It has been a really tough two years, all things considered. Sometime in the next few months DIAC will be back in contact about processing the next stage of Mr O’s visa. I think that is bothering me too: I just can’t face any more paperwork and Goliath-style assessment of our marriage or stupid questions about my camera. Yes, they have a job to do, I know that – it is just that the journey to date has left me drained. I can’t face the prospect of any more battling. I gather it can take six to eight months for a decision on the permanent visa. Why it takes that long I have no idea, but I suppose we will find out soon enough.
Onward and upward. Here is to tomorrow being a better day!