A Year?

Written on 13^th August 2012

A year?

Today marks the day we arrived home an entire 12 months ago – that’s 365 or 366 days.  Actually it could be 367, because I think we actually got home yesterday a year ago.

So what has been happening?  Read on kids.

You see, Mark and I returned to the land of OZ different people.  Not the same as before.  We always had a good time together, but two years in another country with only a handful of friends gave us time to just be us.

No commitments to a three day bender of celebrations (I’ve just finished yet another) and no mention of ‘got to be there because…..” , it was just us two going for a walk on a Sunday morning because we could.

When I finally got over being homesick – a good 12 months into the trip – the English way became part of me.  I enjoyed the bus ride to work, the walk up the High Street in the drizzly rain with my overcoat, scarf and gloves.

I loved my drinking buddies from work or buddies by association because of work.

Mark had a great crew too.  Totally different people to mine, but still good sticks.

Anyway, it was 12 months ago (or 12 months and a day ago) we finally arrived home, surprised the parents in glorious style – mum still grins like a Cheshire cat when recalling the story – and began a new but familiar life.

Familiar you ask?  Apart from the drinking?  Well Mark fell back into his job, we moved back into the same house, we had the same household items right down to the cutlery and we had all these loving people, some now married and some with little kiddies, plus two extras in the family (I’m looking at you Gordon and Cameron).

It was as if we’d had a week’s holiday in England, not two years.  And that became a big fat problem for me.

Panic

At dinner, mum said to me: “Before you left, there were things that worried you. Everything with you and Mark, parents, other people who didn’t know about the two of you…… It’s all gone now.  You’re expecting something that won’t happen.

This was in response to me having my first panic attack.  Not an OMG moment.  A gut wrenching, can’t breathe, tears flowing panic attack – whilst at work.

I’d scored a great job two week after stepping off the plane.  A P.R Agency which has fabulous clientele, is vibrant and in it’s own way really doesn’t even know if any other agencies exist – simply because it is great.

But somehow, this moving back, falling on our feet, same house, having instant jobs, became a guilt thing.  Why are we so lucky?  Is something going to go horribly wrong because everything is perfect? Is this the total reverse of what happened when we moved to England?

Month one: I was still finding my feet. Month two: I was feeling icky driving to work. Month three: I was breathless at my desk whilst attempting to write about the Wiggles.

I resigned on the day I left that job with no time for a last hurrah.  It was ME time.

It was time to smell the roses. 

For the next three months I did just that. 

Early on, I recall sucking on an ice block at 10am.  I was pacing the house from one end to the other without knowing and enjoying every drop of the lemonade goodness.  Before I realised, I was in the freezer again and back to it.

When I finished that one, it dawned on me that I had been pacing but no clue as to what I was thinking about or how many ice blocks I had consumed. It was two – I checked the bin.   

This was a funny little period in this thing called life.  It was time out.  I had plenty of people very concerned. The random house calls were a nice touch and when it appeared like I was about to have a seizure due to my jagged movements in a chair as I was having a head rush, they’d politely keep talking as if nothing was wrong.  That’s what friends are for, and for that I thank them dearly. 

Appearances can be deceiving

The words “Addiction” and “Facebook” – are quite often used with my name at the start of a sentence.

I LOVE IT – Yes, I just yelled it at you. 

You can OMG, WTF, grrrr when you are angry, LOL inappropriately and totally not in context to what you have just written, throw in a hashtag when you’re not even on twitter, do whatever you like -  you go for it girlfriend. If you want to tell me about the cat next door and where it pees, I want to read it.

And I, in return for your statuses, do exactly the same. Constantly. Well, daily. OK, Twice daily. Maybe three times if I see a funny quote picture (what is with those? – there is a never ending supply!)

With everyone knowing my every movement, new piece of furniture and every single time I have a drink, I did come to realise my outlet was Facebook.  Initially, it was all about keeping in contact with all whilst overseas.  Then, over the last year, it became my outlet.  I’d re-read some posts and think “wow, I was feeling great”. Then think…. “Why aren’t I now?”

The “in the moment” feelings were never false.  They were truth.  The times I didn’t have to think.

Re-emigration (I made up a word)

We returned to the country in 2011, but more importantly, almost 12 months later, I returned to me or re-emigrated in 2012.

I believe that I came good, or hit the final phase as I wrote this on August 13^th 2012.

As I bashed it out on the keyboard at work, instead of doing actual work, I felt a big weight lift.  It had been coming slowly but surely, part of which was me treading very carefully and not wanting a false sense of confidence security.

That panic, saw my over-confidence become much more reserved.  In a crowd situation, or under pressure at work, I put on my best performance whilst quietly dying inside.  It took a little (mild) medication and a whole lot of strength to “push through” But I did.  (May I caveat the above sentence by telling you I never sunk to a point of helplessness nor was there any thought of doing anything bad.)

The confidence is nearly back.  With a drink, it is in overdrive.  I still have a little issue when seeing a lot of people at once, most recently this week at a presentation, but I settled into my chair after saying hello and re-gathered.

So Now?

Well, I’m back.  I have a great job where I am paid to maintain and build relationships.  I work in a busy, dynamic and exciting organisation with a lot of energetic people. My team are all younger than me, but I have realised that is a good thing.  I am responsible for them.  I was always the one who was being looked after and managed. Now I manage myself  and the youngers in the department, with superiors keeping a view from a distance.

We’ve been back a full year with everything we could ever wish for.  There is absolutely ‘nothing about to go horribly wrong’. 

A planned trip to America in a couple of weeks, a prosperous lifestyle and being surrounded by good people all the time – what more could I want?  Nothing.

To end, a gigantic thanks for reading and thank you infinity plus one to Mark and Mum.  They just knew what to do XXX.

   

Oh Facey, you just make me want to tell the world!

Here are some posts on my facebook wall from myself and others. When you take a look back, you realise how "in the moment" it really is.

And how they are quite absurd aswell. Here is a collection of my 2012 faves - Jan to June:

The Dingo DID take the baby.

All my fb friends started fighting each other. I just stated a fact :/

Did I just drive past you on the entrance road looking a little like someone from the partridge family?

 Did you expect anything less?

From Mark:

I know I go on about it like a weirdo, but I LOVE my 1960s Sunbeam Mixmaster! Not only does it whip up a lovely cake, it make THE BEST mashed potatoes! Yum yum!

Who would've thought it?

Lordy, this 'pro' with the bad wig and her "did it, didn't do, silly me, my bad" is really believing everything she says. Lock this loon up - NOW! Regardless!

Thank god I remember what I was talking about!

This is pretty clear:

Nobody come near me. Make no sudden moves. I DID drink. I AM hungover. Be considerate Ploise!

I had three phone calls that day.

Popped in for lunch! — with Mark Orren at Top Ryde City Shopping Centre.

I don't even care! Why would you?

Love blowing up balloons at 5.40! Makes Saturday all the more exciting!

I lied.

Hahaha... Finally somewhere you can stick UR moot mat!! — with Mark Orren and 3 others.

Awkward.

Having a muffin with mum! — with Maree Drysdale.

Darl........ Stop us!

Hello Friday!

It never responded.

Ahhhhh, its Thursday!

Just in case you missed Play School.

Just arrived home to find this! How cute, sewing my pants — with Daniel Drysdale at Gumnut Cottage.

 Awkward status inclusion.

and finally............

Oh.My.God. I just found myself miming to one direction. Daniel...... You're almost 31. Shame on you.

 Worst of all, I enjoy the song.

I think I need to be weened off Facebook.  Baby steps. Yes, baby steps!  But friends, before you agree, take a look back on your timeline and tell me what the hell you were on at the time.  Then judge me :)

WHAT?

I was telling my friend Courtney I had “been there, done that” as far as my blog was concerned.

We were sitting there chatting, in the glorious sun of Tenerife after too many Sangria Cava’s. Sangria without the red wine, but substituted with champagne.
Not one to brag, but we really were sitting in the Canary Islands in the sun, in an “all inclusive” resort.


The questions about ‘This is for Ann’ actually started few weeks prior to my trip. My UK friends were asking me when the next ‘Ann’ was coming.

Now, after a week of doing absolutely nothing, I had just checked facebook, chatted briefly with my friend Julie and after a few red wines, had decided to top and tail one that I started quite a few weeks prior and fill in the gaps! Funnily enough, it all still fits!

So let me start again with the title: WHAT?

I was a third through the book ‘the secret’ before putting it back on the shelf. Whilst I do like to ask the universe for everything and think positive and attract and want and get etc etc etc, I recall telling someone I found it repetitive and they told me straight up: ‘you weren’t ready to read it’.
What a funny comment.

Then recently, an arrogant bloke replied to me with ‘Do you expect me to go back to Singapore to get it?’. I just stared at him. How do you reply to that? He knew he couldn’t do what he wanted and was ready with the ‘comeback’ before I spoke.

We all encounter strange people.
They probably have the same thoughts, or worse, about me. It’s the one thing about customer service and people in general, that intrigues me. You come into work and must have a good day.

Most comments and replies have me wanting to ask another question. They are not that funny, don’t make sense and leave loopholes all over the place.

Way back in the early 2000’s, (so long ago) my workplace used to give away muffins for the punters to enjoy whilst we ran competitions and gave away meat trays and vouchers.
The same old woman would always take two muffins every time, with the usual comment: ‘this is for my husband, he is parking the car’. Terri, my colleague got to the point of replying ‘ahh yes, the husband’. We never did meet the husband. We don’t think he existed – she was just greedy.

Then there was the woman I worked with who had worked for the King of India as a waitress, whose parents had won the largest ever prize on a game show and told many of us something about a dog pining for her on the phone after a car accident in another country…… (this one I had to word very carefully due to fear of being sued).

It is one of those things you just can’t be sure to believe, but of course, love to hear. And………… more importantly, you make sure what you have heard, is just like the others who you have been keeping tabs with! ( This one kept us all going for a good year or two!)

But, it is these stories and dramatic people that really make me question what is true and not and what I am actually saying and believeing in.

When you have a few drinks, you always know that you can be a little over exaggerated. But mostly, its truth with ‘a bit on the side’. However, these four very different examples have one thing in common: RESPONSES.

The old woman lied about the husband. Unless he really was parking the car, then that would make me the liar!

The fellow travelling back to Singapore definitely tried to fool me but I didn’t really care. But he spoke with such defensiveness, it showed me he knew the answer before he walked in the door and just wanted to challenge the system.

And honestly, that woman was so much fun to listen to, I really can’t say anymore. Except we kept tabs on her “pregnancies” really, enough about this one!

Then, I think about me and that little chat on the Island of Tenerife – did I mention it again?

So here ends a flurry of words, or blog 5. Just a chat and bits that I’ve had on my mind.
WHAT? Yes, I bloody lied. Sorry Court. But thanks Julie and Lizzy. Its here!

P.s, Finished in London two weeks after I told myself to finish it. BRING ON 2011!

Just a thought......

I’ve always had the mentality and even said “I can do anything – just show me how”.

There is no arrogance in this line, its simply fact - show me what to do and I will be able to do it.

This is my third foray into the “blog”, which is to assist my head in not overloading and to show Ann I can do it.

And I really need to conquer the first one this week.

It’s weird when you feel you are the flavour of the month. Everything seems really good at work and then the next minute, for no reason, the shine just seems to wear off. And very quickly.

That’s not to say I don’t enjoy my current employment, but I do feel now is the time for “make or break” and I seem to be the only one that feels this way.

So the question needs to be asked – is it me?

Well of course it bloody well is!

Having worked in promotions, marketing and events over the past nine years where hosting a raffle with meat trays is as exciting as producing and executing a marketing campaign, I knew I would get to this point.

My old boss Deb at the events company even went as far to say she “wouldn’t have seen me doing that!”

I was worried too, as I had these big dreams of moving here, working at the BBC and furthering my knowledge so I wasn’t cornered into one area of marketing.

Knowing every premise and being able to tailor it to any industry is what I would like to do – its creativity after all!

Maybe Deb was right. At present, I can’t stop these thoughts of boredom, then panic and then happiness that seem to change quicker than the minute hand on a clock.

But this is not something new that I am feeling, I have been this way most of my life. I stop after a while for no reason and re-evaluate where I am headed, then somehow shutdown all the good thoughts and feel trapped.

And whilst this is happening to me, I think of a piece of advice once given and never forgotten………

“If you don’t like the journey, get off the bus”

This “journey” is actually a day trip in a big, long, fantastic 2 year holiday that Mark and I decided to take. Very wise words.

So shouldn’t I just go on these day trips and enjoy the larger adventure?

The answer is yes. Typing these things out shows me there is no worry in thoughts.

Rationally, I am able to sway myself into seeing what the priorities really are.

The power of the mind is horrendously delicious – isn’t it?

So this fox walks into a bank......

The Penny Coin

Hopping off the 220 at my bus stop in Putney, it wasn’t long before I knew today would be a great day - I found a one penny coin as I walked up the high street.

Like a madman, I picked it up, and mouthed those magic words, ensuring that no one was looking at me.

“Find a penny, pick it up and all the day you’ll have good luck”

I quite often find penny coins and have seen other “scabs” or “very lucky people” do the same thing and it wasn’t too long before this “luck” had come to fruition.

I met my colleagues and as we trundled into the bank together ready for another day, we were met with a foul stench and a comment by my boss as she let us in: “We’ve had another fox” – like it was something that happens often.

Looking around the dishevelled banking hall, all the furniture had been moved like we’d been burgled.

The display sign in the entry was on the other side of the room, chairs displaced, a computer tower on the floor and an odd scent.

Before I knew it, my colleagues were dry reaching and letting out painful moans as they started to dodge pieces of poo on the floor.

ME? I started asking questions.

What do you mean a fox? How did it get in? Are you serious? You mean to tell me a fox broke in and did all this? I can’t believe a fox broke into the bank and did all this! I can’t…….

So what happened?

During the night, there had been movement in the bank and the police were alerted.

They soon discovered, along with the eldest member of staff in attendance (she lives a few streets away), that there was in fact a fox trapped inside.

Two hours, four police officers, the dog squad and our fearless colleague had finally captured the fox.

When I say captured, I mean it ran out the front door!

No wonder the furniture was everywhere – the fox had tried to hide in every possible cranny.

So here we all were, gloves on, febreeze in hand, trying hard to clear up a big mess.

I won’t give more details than that, but this fox must have been so scared that it had sprayed everything and left more deposits than yesterdays entire day of trading.

But this is only half the story…….

Crisis on the High Street.

As the professional cleaners and builders were called in (part of the ceiling had caved in where the fox had entered), we were unable to open the doors!

The luck had started. We couldn’t open!

This meant two of us would have to stand out the front and let people know why the bank wasn’t open. We offered them alternatives, as there are 4 branches in close proximity where you can walk, catch the bus or train.

And so it began:

Me: Sorry Sir, the bank is closed at the moment. We are looking at a 1pm opening at this stage.

Customer: Why? (I don’t know why we had to answer “why?” but this was the case with everyone)

Me: We had a fox in last night and there is a bit of … errr… umm... damage.

Customer: (surprised, yet sceptical) A fox?

Me: Yes, a fox.

Customer: (shakes head, smiles with frustration and follows with…) Well, what am I suppose to do now, I can’t believe this has happened. I need to get cash out. So there is no chance of me getting my money? Typical (bank name)!

Walks away.

I’d got what I wanted, but this was becoming a cruel twist of fate.

I need to find another penny – and urgently!

As you can imagine, it’s Friday, the busiest day of the week. Many people still cash cheques from their own account, a lot of them only draw cash over the counter and many don’t even know how to use an ATM!

By midday the cleaners had arrived and we knew this 1pm promise was not going to happen.

We never did open, but these are a few of the classic lines we were faced with:

1. ”Oh my god! I need money for my holiday. What am I suppose to do? You’ve ruined my holiday” (have I?)

2. ”You told me 1pm and now you don’t think you’ll open? Have you caught the fox yet?” (I re-explained the whole story and again offered the alternative branches to no avail!)

3. (remember, the doors were closed and by this time, the world knew about our fox) “Look, I only need to deposit this money, as I have a bill that’s due. Is there any way I can just come in and pay it?”

4. ”I don’t need this today! I’ve been at work and I’ve got to get my daughter from school and I cannot see how a fox would cause all this. (she stares longingly at me like I have a magic wand or a new solution)

I explain to her the alternative branches again then…. (she stares longingly at me like I will take pity – no words).

Replying to her stare and being as dismissive as I can be but nice at the same time:

“I don’t know what else I can tell you. We will not open today” (stares for the final time, then walks off).

5. “Awwww, is the fox ok?” (I suddenly became the person staring blankly, as this was the first time all day someone had given the fox a thought)

So what started out to be a “lucky” day, ended up with a little old fox – who is now off running around the suburbs - showing me both sides of the coin.

The next time I find a penny, I’ll “pick it up and …………….

It took 6 months, $300 and Ann….

E-mail response from Ann: “Daniel, Unfortunately on this occasion I really do need someone with online marketing experience which unfortunately you mentioned you do no have”

You do no have????

This is my experience, My opinion, My way to stop the inner monologue taking over.
Hate it? Don’t read it. Simple.
And if you are wondering about the e-mail or my new friend Ann, I’ll get to that.

The Glazbrooks did it, so can we.

We are currently living in the UK.
The Glazbrooks inspired this trip.
They took a chance.

When things weren’t changing for the better, our friends Rene, Rachel and Eli threw themselves into the ute to a new state, new life, no friends or money and gave it all they could.
A couple of years later they’re still there. We sat, watched and said – they did it, so can we.

We’d saved an enormous amount of cash in a year and a half, sold the cars, got rid of a debt mum never knew about, sold off the crap in the cupboards and dispersed the furniture across the Central Coast for people to babysit.

Here it was: October 2009. Ready for a new exciting adventure. No idea what to expect. Reality had set in.
This is real and now I’m scared.

Crying and Lasagne

Crying was a big part when saying goodbye to friends. As was lasagne. We had the two week tour of lasagne to be precise. I can’t remember how many, but for those two weeks, I recall everyone’s version of lasagne was a little different. This just shows you where my head was at, worrying more about lasagne than the people.

With everyone needing a goodbye ticked off the list, the last day and a half was awful. I couldn’t eat, was uneasy and to be honest, very lost. This wasn’t all in my head.
Here I was, sitting in the car with Mum and Dad fanging down the F3, ready to go. I sobbed at the gate, sobbed through customs and as for the one hour flight to Brisbane, I really thought it was long enough.

But the 27 hours, 5 of which were sitting in KL airport at 5am did “fly by”. I had no choice but to relax and I kept telling myself if the plane went down would I have a choice?

In a blur we arrived in London and over the next three days walked off the jetlag.
First things first – facebook. (of course)

Over the coming weeks we travelled Europe, eating, drinking, pinching ourselves everytime we’d see a landmark. Yet amongst all this excitement and taking a million photos, we had that unnerving feeling – what’s going to happen next?


We live here now. But where???

We scheduled 7 days to find a place and move in – we did it in 8. I still wonder where the “week” came from.

Hammersmith. 15 mins to the heart of London on the tube. Two and a half hour hike from Big Ben along the Thames Walk, which, incidentally, at times goes though back streets and sporting fields!
The flat is up the road from Disney and Coca Cola Headquarters and next door is Harper Collins. In two minutes you have shopping, a theatre, a hospital, infrastructure ……..oh the list goes on! It’s perfect!

But there is a back story….
Where should we live? What do we need in a place? Did we forget we have no jobs? What reason would an owner have to approve us? Oh Shit!

The options: Pay 6 months in advance – no. Pay three months in advance but with 10 weeks deposit – yes. Re-reading this sentence, there is little difference. But at the time, it made perfect sense.

We looked at some dives, two great ones, were pipped at the post by apparent “broken central heating” (I still think the real estate guy was just being nice – he knew we were desperate and were obviously rejected) and found the palace we call home with all bills included.
Of course, on the day we needed to pay (cash only) our faithful bank in Oz had frozen the cards (after a month of being overseas???). Thank god we had placed $20 on skype and Maccas had free internet or we would’ve been stuffed!

The Palace (it’s on Fulham Palace Road – hence the joke) is fully furnished and looks to be recently renovated. Our landlord is very good and we’re above a café. The Italian neighbours are LOUD and there seems to be 15 of them, but we’re piggybacking on their internet – so we like them.

Right! We’ve got the house, now the job……

Jobhunt

YES it snowed at Christmas. YES there were carolers on every street corner. YES it was freezing but fun. YES I had the flu for over a month (I think it was swine). YES we walked everywhere and every single day was brilliant. And YES we couldn’t find a job!
I don’t know why we thought we could “just get a job”. As time rolled on, we had to change the non-plan.

Was it Reverse Racism? Being Australian? Reaching for the top? Trying too hard? I’m still not sure, however I do know that hundreds of UK businesses know of us, don’t need us and didn’t bother to let us know.

Very early on (January), Mark and I joined a couple of temping agencies to “tie us over”.
When signing the myriad of forms on the day, we received this piece of advice:
“It’ll all come good once you hit rock bottom”
Thanks.

What and When is rock bottom? Can we have the date? Well, it took a while to hit rock bottom – April/May 2010 (is it twenty-ten or two thousand and ten? I’m still not sure.)

Whilst we prepared for this “rock bottom” thing, we decided one of us would just get a full time job - anywhere. That way the other could apply apply apply for what they wanted and we’d have the cash to stay. Easy right?

1. I was rejected by a lady who spoke minimal English whose shop (a discount shoe shop) had a hand written sign in the window.

2. I went along for an interview at some ‘pyramid selling business’ which was disguised as “Promotions Marketing and Events” where the woman talked at me for 45 minutes and I mean talked at me!!!! I’m still unsure what they did, but I know all about her self-importance. I did make it to the top 5, but politely declined the chance to work for the lady and whatever it is they do.

Moving on from them, silly me forgot about my hospitality experience between the ages of 18 to 25, and got a job in a hotel. This job was fulltime and a quick fix.

During this odd 10 weeks of employment at the hotel, I received the e-mail at the beginning of this story.
An excellent opportunity had come up where I had worked for a day for the temping agency. For the following two weeks I was researching, planning, attending a social media conference – even going as far as writing e-mail, facebook and twitter promotions to take to the interview.

Interviewed for an hour, and completely convinced it was in the bag, I was anxious to hear those wonderful words – “you’ve got the job”. Instead……
“Daniel, Unfortunately on this occasion I really do need someone with online marketing experience which unfortunately you mentioned you do no have”.
Well, I believe she was wrong and in protest, I decided to write this. She clearly cannot spell, but I bet she didn’t think she’d have this dedicated to her.
This is for Ann is born.
And worse than her spelling, for the time being I still have to work at the Hotel……….

Well one of us has a job, so we can relax right?

No.
In amongst all of this business of moving to the UK, Dale, a great friend had moved jobs and offered Mark a Graphic Design gig back home.

Perfect – he can still temp whilst looking for the full time job, keep up and grow his skills doing a few hours a week for Dale and it’ll be fine. Or so we thought.
We were “just getting by”.

Even though there was cash coming in, it wasn’t enough. Apart from the money, it was the times we worked. I’d start at 5pm and finish about 2am. He’d start at 9am when he had work. Something was amiss!

We simply had to cope and for the most part we did… OR… in a rush of lunacy I’d stop and say “let’s go home” – like I had ‘one up’ on the UK.
The only problem with “let’s go home” was simple - We had no money, no car and no jobs there either!

And as the rent date rolled by again: £953.33, due 11th of each month, (its done over 52 weeks and divided by 12 – in case you were wondering about the 33p.) The cash was about to run out.

A ray of sunshine had broken through at this time and our moods had changed from “survival” to “ahhhhh”– Mark had picked up Full Time work in a bank. But, he had to get there……..



Can we borrow $300?

You see, without knowing, Mark asked his dad for $300. This exchanges to around £160 ish.
On the weekly skype (I cannot be more impressed by skype – genius) My parents and Marks would somehow bring into the conversation “if we needed to borrow cash, please ask”.

Mark had asked his Dad and we were RICH! $300. RICH! Converted to £160. RICH!
Ok, so we had food but more importantly Mark could afford the tube ticket to work.

It did mean a there’d be a short time where things would be tight, but it really didn’t matter. It’d only be a week or so.

As we pondered this good fortune life was treating us to, we sat down and thought about some wise words given to us a few months earlier in January…….

HELLO ROCK BOTTOM – Welcome

The stress and annoyance at Ann and everyone who wasn’t working from 5pm and thinking “what have we done” was all changing.

With $300 in our pockets, Mark working full time, it was a no brainer. Goodbye Hotel.
Whatever happened next would still be easier than the current situation and any bad thought only crossed our minds for a day.

I gave the Hotel a weeks notice and the next day I was filling out a form for a full time customer service job – in a bank. Two of us in a bank. Both full time. Both working the same hours. Both paid weekly. Almost double my minimum wage job at the Hotel.

Asking for the money had changed everything.

ROCK BOTTOM – I LOVE YOU!

If I knew Rock Bottom meant asking for money and the universe would turn things around, I would’ve taken up the offer in October.

Which brings this story to the present day.

Of course there is more – Mark then picked up a full time job in a Design and Print company just a few doors from Madame Tussauds, I really enjoy the bank, it’s a 15 minute bus ride and they really like me. Life is great!

But more importantly, there have been some very nice people we have met and whilst we couldn’t really be social in the past few months, we now have the opportunity to re-connect and are having a great time with them.

Reflecting, what would we have done differently?

NOTHING.

Without a bit of drama, I wouldn’t know how to live!


I really do need to thank Ann for motivating me to share this with you.
There will be more - when I am ready to write it.

It took me 8 months to write this!