I made it to the short list for that job in Lancashire, was actually right up there and in the running.
However, they gave it to someone else.
I don’t know what to say about this anymore. There are only so many times I can say I miss working.
Right now the situation is getting critical, because I am down to my last £40. My mother sent me some money early last week, but between buying food and travelling it’s down to that. I don’t know what to do with myself.
I am trying not to worry, because I know things will work out, but everytime I hear that ‘not enough UK experience’ I get dejected.
My cousin came in day before yesterday and said, “I’m thinking about paying rent on a flat for you in London.”
“You trying to get rid of me, huh?” I asked kind of playfully, but I immediately began to worry.
“No, I’m thinking about you. You’re not going to get a job down here are you?”
He tells me he had a friend was supposed to take this place, but he figures he can leave him out in favour of me.
You see what I mean about my cousin not being a bad man? Thing is, I suspect I’m cock-blocking in some way I’m not entirely aware of.
Anyway, now that it’s a hundred per cent sure I’m not going to Lancashire, I’m probably going to take him up on his offer. If he really means it, that is.
At the very least, I’ll be nearer to the few friends I have in London. To be honest, I was a little worried about going that far away, into an area where I knew absolutely no one.
I’m trying to tell myself to stop worrying about money and all that shit, that I’m being taken care of, but that independent little girl inside me who never asks for help is insisting that I should be able to take care of myself.
I’m just tired. I so tired of worrying. I know it isn’t good for me. I know all these worries will pass (no doubt to be replaced by new worries) but chile, I just can’t help myself. I’m a worryer. I analyse and obsess and I just haven’t been able to find a way to completely relax.
I’ve used my last two JS coupons, because oi, have you seen my stats over the last week and half? I’ve had something like 4, 200 hits since last Sunday. That’s like staggering. I’m addicted to my stats page!
I’ve had three separate online publications ask me to contribute to their magazines in the last week (for no money mind you, but I really don’t mind). One of the editors told me she adored my writing, and I was so flattered I didn’t know what to do with myself.
I’ve also had a whole new crop of readers just appear out of nowhere, and well…. I’m kind of surprised. Piquant Bass just went over 50 downloads, and well all of a sudden I’m aware of an audience.
I’m doing searches for Orisa and Osun at Google, and I’m on the first page. This is a little overwhelming and thrilling at the same time.
You know, when I was writing columns for newspapers in Barbados and Trinidad, I would get a little thrill when I say my name in print, but I never got a sense that anyone was reading my writing. That is, until someone recognised me from the picture next to my by-line and would come up to me and tell me how much they liked my work. That in itself was always a freaky experience.
You know, you’re going alone doing your mundane life cycle things, and there you are cashing a cheque at the bank and someone says, “You’re ndelamiko lord, aren’t you?”
I’d duck my head, and embarrassed I’d confess. They would gush, and I would stand there like a deer in headlights just shocked. I always think of myself as labouring in obscurity, never as being someone read; someone respected for my piddling abilities with the written word.
Now I am being indexed by search engines everywhere…..
It’s still a little freaky.
I should just bow gracefully and say, ‘Thank You!’.
**bows to the room**
Chile, at some point the cord between me and all this worrying is going to snap. I’m too hard-headed and determined for it not to. I’m just reaching that point where limbo is not enough anymore.
I left Trinidad to meet my ‘destiny’ as it were, but like it still down the road, and I here waiting on it… it’s taking it’s cool sweet time to reach, oui?
Maybe I’m in the middle of it, and I am just so worn out I can’t see it….