"I love it when a plan comes together..."
This time last month my entire life was a disaster. I was pregnant and alone, the man I loved was with someone else, I had nowhere to live and everything seemed pretty shit.
How quickly things can change!
I got back together with the bloke, and we've been all loved up and vomit-inducing since. Everything felt ten times easier, knowing that I had him to rely on when things got tough.
And then the council called me last week to tell me I'd been "matched" to a flat. After a very strange morning calling and emailing various people, I learned that being "matched" meant they had allocated me a home which was mine if I wanted it. And here I am, little over a week later, with everything packed and on its way there.
The bloke, my brother, and my little sister have all been absolutely bloody legendary for me in getting this move sorted out. My sister has brought me boxes from all over everywhere, and given me lifts wherever I've needed to go. The bloke has insisted on paying removal men (thank god!) to move all my stuff even though he can't really afford it. My brother has just been amazing. I put a note on Facebook with a list of things I need for the move, in case anyone knew of anything going spare. My brother looked at the list, and went on a mission. Today he blagged one of his work mates into helping him, and they went to the new flat with a fridge freezer, washing machine, juicer, steamer, George Foreman grill, and tons of kitchen utensils. All for free. I could literally cry.
The removal men left here about an hour ago with a van-load of my stuff; they're moving it into the flat now, and will be back in a bit to collect the last couple of things. I've spent the last seven months stressing over where I was going to live, what would happen with the bloke, and whether I would have any support from my family. I've had a constant knot in my stomach from all the uncertainty and worry. I feel like by the time I collapse into bed tonight, there will be nothing to worry me. Except for the whole labour/being a parent thing - which I am surprisingly relaxed about. Life is sweet.
How quickly things can change!
I got back together with the bloke, and we've been all loved up and vomit-inducing since. Everything felt ten times easier, knowing that I had him to rely on when things got tough.
And then the council called me last week to tell me I'd been "matched" to a flat. After a very strange morning calling and emailing various people, I learned that being "matched" meant they had allocated me a home which was mine if I wanted it. And here I am, little over a week later, with everything packed and on its way there.
The bloke, my brother, and my little sister have all been absolutely bloody legendary for me in getting this move sorted out. My sister has brought me boxes from all over everywhere, and given me lifts wherever I've needed to go. The bloke has insisted on paying removal men (thank god!) to move all my stuff even though he can't really afford it. My brother has just been amazing. I put a note on Facebook with a list of things I need for the move, in case anyone knew of anything going spare. My brother looked at the list, and went on a mission. Today he blagged one of his work mates into helping him, and they went to the new flat with a fridge freezer, washing machine, juicer, steamer, George Foreman grill, and tons of kitchen utensils. All for free. I could literally cry.
The removal men left here about an hour ago with a van-load of my stuff; they're moving it into the flat now, and will be back in a bit to collect the last couple of things. I've spent the last seven months stressing over where I was going to live, what would happen with the bloke, and whether I would have any support from my family. I've had a constant knot in my stomach from all the uncertainty and worry. I feel like by the time I collapse into bed tonight, there will be nothing to worry me. Except for the whole labour/being a parent thing - which I am surprisingly relaxed about. Life is sweet.