My holiday officially starts today, as yesterday was a Bank Holiday, and I don’t think I have ever dreaded two weeks off work more. Not that I want to be working but it is going to be just like a work week without the work. Not going away. No money. In the flat alone as usual. On one big downer since February anyway and, as I do, I am here reflecting on what went wrong.
Permanency could be part of the problem. I went to six different schools – four primary and two secondary. Not the basis for making long term friendships. The longest I attended the same one was two years seven months – the last one. I was bullied at three of these schools- the first two and the last one. I can remember six of our homes but there were more. Since I left home I have lived in sixteen different places. I have had twelve jobs.
As a kid I never dreamed of being anything – an astronaut, policeman, fireman. Nothing ever crossed my mind, except at 11 I decided I wanted to be a footballer, an idea that was squashed almost immediately by the parents who allegedly asked at parents’ evening and was told I had no chance. So, we get to age 16 and I still had no idea what I wanted to be, but I was staying on at school to do A Levels so I didn’t have to worry about it yet. Wrong! My parents made me leave school so I had to take the first job I could get which was in insurance.
What then did I want out of life? At 16 I didn’t know, at 18 I did. I wanted to be a writer and I wanted to meet someone – as we all do. Regretfully, I have failed at both. I suppose one could say I have done marginally better in one than the other. I have written five books and know that people have enjoyed reading them, but the publishing industry is not convinced so I cannot make a living from it.
The other has been a nightmare. Every first date I have been on has been a blind date i.e. from a dating agency, except one which was still a blind date but I arranged it myself. What this means is that no woman that knows me has ever wanted to go out with me. If I can go this long without anyone wanting to be in my life, I can’t be worth much. The best that can be said is that I am still here and not insane.
What to do in the days ahead of me? The easy answer would be to do some writing, but demoralisation weighs heavy. Without a famous name whatever I write will never be published in the traditional manner. I did think once that as I was not famous and/or had no following, the next best thing would be a celebrity review. Without directly requesting one, I went fishing but it has all been Pointless.
As is normal for me, I have to try and entertain myself and hope I don’t go gambling with money I don’t have.
There is one teeny tiny dot of light on the horizon. the Readers’ Favorite competition I entered. The results are out on Friday. I don’t have a chance of winning really because real writers enter too but it would be the only way The Puzzle is going to get published I fear.
Other than that the future is black not orange.