Situation is this. From Wednesday morning, theoretically, I’m homeless. Right now the best case scenario is sharing the car with Rigby.
I’ve been given my marching orders. I’m not as upset about it as I might be. Truth is I hate it here, and even though the outlook is not great the thought that I’ll soon be clear of the hostile forces is kind of liberating. And I’ve got to be fair. I can’t stay here forever, and I can’t just presume that I can. I understand completely why I might not be wanted (though appreciate it being communicated with more class next time).
I had hoped that some of my finagling would have paid off by the deadline, but that won’t be the case. I think something will pay off, but just not yet, and maybe, when it does, not to the amount I had hoped.
In the meantime I’m in limbo. Not a fun place really, but I’m surprisingly sanguine. I’ve grown used to the challenge. There is little I can do, but there is always the possibility of a sudden improvement.
I’m lucky in that I have very caring friends. I find it hard to thank them appropriately. As I write this they have banded together to crowd source a solution for me. They’ve posted a message on Facebook to all their followers asking if anyone has a granny flat or accommodation for Rigby and me.
I really don’t know what will happen, but this is the situation.