Moving week

It’s been a significant week. Not so much in what has happened, more so in terms of what the future may hold.

There’s a lot goes on in my life. It’s pretty dull, but it’s pretty busy to. There are constant and often insistent demands upon me. There are regular difficulties and the occasional controversy. Most of it relates to stuff long gone, but not all of it. I don’t bother to record much of that here, if any. It’s tedious, and no-one wants to read about it.

Unfortunately I have to deal with it. No getting away from that. The phone calls come in and I respond as I see fit. Sometimes that’s conciliatory and diplomatic. Sometimes it’s scathing. Much of it depends on who is contacting me, and how they conduct themselves. I rank them you see. If you’re reasonable with me then I’ll be reasonable with you. If you’re rude or high-handed you get the full force of H’s wit. Once upon a time I’d have been intimidated by it. Not any more. I give as good as, and often better than I get.

There are letters too. Sometimes they sit unopened on my console for weeks. I know what’s in them, I just don’t want to read about it. Eventually I have to deal with them too. In the end I’m pretty diligent. Nothing slips by. Every opportunity is exploited. Just this week I’ve written another letter appealing a situation and complaining about the process, following up on a phone call. (On a side note, it’s shocking how bureaucratic, inefficient and corrupt so many agencies are).

I’ve survived like that for years, but it’s not much fun, and it’s not much better than survival. You do adjust to it though.

Today, in the space of about 30 minutes two very important things occurred.

The first was that a courier delivered a contract for me to sign. It was belated confirmation of a job I will commence in late January. Thirty minutes later the ATO called me. They asked a few questions then told me they would not be approving my request for tax relief. No surprises there, but disappointing all the same.

One of the questions they asked me is why I hadn’t declared myself bankrupt before now? That’s a very easy question to ask now, in hindsight, but at the time when I might have considered that I believed that I would soon be clear of my situation. I had hope and belief. Two rears plus later it’s clear it was misplaced.

It would have been so much easier had I declared myself bankrupt then. I wouldn’t have had to deal with much of this stress, and none of the constant demands on me. I would have slept a lot easier all round. And it would be over now, done and dusted, a clean slate to take into the new year.

I didn’t because I thought things would get better. And I didn’t it because I didn’t want to be a bankrupt. I didn’t want to shirk my responsibilities by some legal loophole. And I was proud. That may sound silly, but it counts for something. And I didn’t do it because of the technical difficulties it would present – unable to operate a business except under my own name, the potential difficulty in getting somewhere to live, etc.

Today I’ve decided I’ll do it. I don’t know if I have much choice, but it feels right regardless. I’ve fought hard. I’ve tried to do the ‘right thing’. I’ve got to move on though.

So, new job and bankrupt, but that’s not the end of it.

I’ve had enough calls this week to believe that next year will be better. It could be an illusion, but suddenly there appears some interest for someone with my skills. I doubt anything will come of the opportunities presented to me this week, but it gives me hope for next year. I need not be stuck in customer service forever.

There was a last thing. Early in the week I decided to look up something online. I’ve had a diagnosed condition for about 10 years. I’m used to it, and it rates no more than an inconvenience most days. Lately it’s troubled me a little more so impatient I decided to see if there have been any recent advances in the treatment of it. To my surprise I found information that troubled me.

I had no real awareness that my condition has a reasonable mortality rate. As I read further it became more confusing, but also more worrying.

The trouble is I feel pretty fit. I look pretty fit. I mean, the last thing in the world I would think is that I might have an illness that could kill me. And I still don’t believe that.

That’s easy to think now of course. I’m spritely. Still youthful, and beyond my years. This was a wake up call though. It can change. And besides telling myself to have a good chat to my doctor about it next time I very quickly began the exercises for my condition I do so rarely.

I don’t want readers to get the wrong idea. I don’t really know what to expect – it’s very vague and contradictory. I don’t expect to die soon, or indeed not for a long time. I’ve set myself 90 years, and nothing’s changed. It’s a reminder though not to take things for granted.

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