What if?

   I thought my parents were going to call me on Jan 1st.  We ususally call one another and wish one another a happy New Year, even if as the years have gone by, the phone calls have proved difficult.  At least on my part.  But I'm sure on their part as well.  It is because I can't tell them when I'll come and see them again.  But the phone calls still need to be made, because however hard it is, one must gird one's heart and get on with it.

   So I got on with it and called them on Christmas Day with a card I bought the day before, but by New Year's day, I had used up all the credits.  Lots of phone calls to be made.  So until I'm able to get another card, I'm waiting for their call.

   The funny thing with this is that although it is difficult to speak to them, I want to.  Lately, I have been wondering if I'll get a phone call one of these days to inform me that one of them has died.  I have lost two grandparents this year (last year rather) and I wasn't able to say goodbye.  So when their number flashes on my phone, my heart almost stops until I pick up the phone and talk to them for a minute before my heart goes back to normal.

   Sometimes, I think that perhaps I should go back.  But now, I have the Husband........

   Husband has gone over to visit his parents.  They only live an hour away from us so he will be spending the night at home, weather conditions permitting.  Because it is likely to snow again today.  A bloody nuisance, although I thank God for Wellies.  Last year, I didn't have any suitable shoes so I petrified to step outside lest I left my neck on some slippery pavement somewhere.

   I'm getting sick and tired of the snow though, even if it's been nice having the Husband at home and listening to him working next door.  The downside of that is that it had thrown my schedule a little off key.  Lunch together, walks that he likes to takes with me, and just spending some time together.  The snow has been like a holiday to him.  So when he asked me earlier on whether I wanted to come with him to his parents, I said no.

   Firstly because with him out, I have the opportunity to update my blog, work on more product development, and I had the bright idea this morning to have a go at writing a play.  So I thought it would be good while he is at his parents to start on it without any interruption.  Plus I need to do some housework. 

   The place is a complete mess, but there is no point in doing any housework when the Husband is home.  The place soon ends up looking like a bomb site.  I have spoken about this to other friends of mine who've said the same thing.  So the Husband is not really to blame.  It is one of those things.

   There is also another reason why I said no to the Husband.  First of all, for the duration of our stay there, I will feel that I'm wasting valuable time.  Time which could be best used for useful pursuits (cf above paragraph).  Second of all, while I will have a wonderful hour with the Husband driving there, at the back of my mind, I will be aware that the fun will come to an end once we park in front of his parents' house.

   we will be offered tea, we will talk or rather they will provide us with the latest instalment in the lives of one of his siblings, cousins, etc.  We will take our drinks into the living room where the TV will be put on.  Perhaps his mother will talk about the bargains at Primark, or at some supermarket, before telling me (or is it asking me?  I can never be sure) to come over next time and do my shopping there.

   I usually say yes and once or twice, to please her, but to please the Husband even more, I had done it.  With no enjoyment.  The thing is, I know that she is trying to be like a mother to me, mine being so far away.  But as I tell the Husband, my mother wouldn't be so suffocating.  Of course, I don't put it in such harsh term but it is the gist of it.

   I can't help getting the impression that she would likeme to adopt those past times, but really window-shopping, or shopping for that matter, is not my thing.  I can never buy anything for starters, nor can she because her husband, my father-in-law will want detailed accounts, so she does the next best thing: window shopping.  But on those occasions when we have talked, deeply (?), I have told her how I would prefer a good magazine to wasting my time thus.  But I think there is this need in her to make me accepting of my station: I'm a housewife, so I should be accepting of what the Husband gives me (and the Husband is not stingy, but when one doesn't have a lot of money?) and make do.  Besides, one has to have some fun, right?  Her reasoning, not mine.

   And this is where my thinking, and my mother-in-law's thinking differ.  She is the type of person who says "this is my lot, I'd better make do with it", but that is not my thinking.  I'm in the business of bettering my life, so I can't afford to squander precious minutes.

When one steps off the treadmill of life

   I haven't updated the blog for a few days now, but it is because I have been taking a breather.

   It all started on the Sunday after the New Year when the Husband suggested we go to our nearest shopping mall.  Not necessarily to shop, unless we found something that we really, really liked - a matter of life and death I'm talking about here.  It is a good job that we are not shoppers.  Anyway...

   To be honest, I initially didn't want to go.  I had just got another idea for my business and I wanted to stay home and work on it.  And maybe read the paper, time permitting.  But I was aware that the Husband was bored, so I said yes to his suggestion and off we went.  And what a wonderful time we had!  We haven't laughed like we did on that day (and since then) for a long time.  The finale was when we went into this wonderful buffet Chinese restaurant (the kind where you order the food, they cook it and bring it to your table) and just ate too much food.  Way too much!  But it was something we hadn't done in a long time, what with me developing product range for my business, him building up his business, without forgetting the stresses of everyday life.  Stresses which played havoc with our sex life (I'm glad to report that all is back to normal now!).  They were also making me bite his head off; I'm sure he was wondering if I still loved him, and I was wondering that too, but it was because I was angry with him.  Even when we managed to sort out the issue I was angry with him at.

2010

   The teenies are here, and while I'm sure I will enjoy them, today is not a day I'm having a blast.  In fact, I wish that midnight would soon come so that we can get back to the humdrum of life, and stop holding up one day as the First Day of the rest of our lives.

   Perhaps if I was in the motherland, I would be having a different attitude.  And maybe that is the reason why I'm feeling down today because I kind of hoped that I would be there today, finally with my family after many years abroad.  But I'm still here. 

   Sometimes, I wonder if there is any point in doing the right thing; I know the right thing would be to go back, but I'm talking about the next best right thing, i.e. not working, or claiming benefits, or abusing the NHS (it is a good job I'm not a sickling!) or doing any of those things illegal immigrants are accused of doing.  The reason why I wonder that is because I have a project that I need to get off the ground, but which I can't because of lack of funds.  But the Husband tells me to be patient, and not do anything rash, i.e. work.  We don't want to make a bad situation worse, do we?  So I'm listening to him, but boy, it is hard.  Hard to make plans and be unable to do anything about them.  I mean what can be done now, I have done.  By the way, it is a business I'm trying to set up, so as far as business plans are concerned, I have done them, just to give me a rough idea of how much money I will need.  And the skills that need to be had, I've had them.  I'm just developping my product range, and waiting....  Waiting to pounce.  Because when I finally regularise my situation, I don't want to be dragging my feet. 

   Still, I can't help feeling depressed.  Or rather feel down, to use the correct term.  I don't have time to be depressed.  If I choose to go under the duvet now, I'm fucked.  Can't afford that.  So I'm up and about.  Husband and I are having a wonderful New Year - because one must do the best, regardless - cooking, eating, drinking, about to watch Quantum of Solace with friends in a little while.  I just need to psyche myself up and call my family.  I also need to pray that this will truly be a happy New Year.

Still on the subject of hope

   Because even though I'm tired of hoping, and desperately need something to be happening in my life, I must keep on hoping.  Otherwise, if I decide to give in to despair, well, I may as well jump from some bridge, or stand in front of a fast moving lorry.  But suicide is not my way of dealing with things.  Besides, I believe things are about to change.  At least, I hope, because if all goes well, we may well be lodging an application with the Home Office in the New Year.

   I say if all goes well because for two years now, we have been trying to regularise my situation, but every time we have come close to sorting things out, an obstacle has reared its ugly head and we've had to delay things.  That obstacle ususally has been money.  Or rather the lack of it, and because the Husband is the sole breadwinner, well, you can imagine.  There isn't any benefit money coming through the post, nor do we have any savings to fall back on, so if the Husband gets made redundant, or changes job, that's it.  We are buggered, as they say.  Whoever says such things.

   Anyway, a few months ago, the Husband decided to go into business - much better than working for other people - and we started to have some money come in.  So much so that we were even making plans, but a month ago, Husband fell it, so we are now experiencing the tribulations of being self-employed, which means that I'm now wondering whether we will be delaying things again.  I'm sure the Husband would like to, but my mind is made up: we are going ahead with it.

   I know two grand is a lot of money, especially for people like us, but I don't care.  I'll beg and borrow it if I have to.  I would have said "steal" but I'm a Christian, so I don't steal anymore.  I'm just waiting for the appropriate time to speak again to the Husband about it.  In the middle of this month, I took the decision out of his hands and told him that we would lodge an application in January.  I did that because I knew that if it was left to him, he wouldn't make any decision.  He was actually letting his emotions rule and getting on his soapbox, the way any bona fide Westerner would, by banging on about why he has to pay that much money and wasn't he entitled to marry whom he likes?

   So you must understand why I had to make the decision for him.  Who cares about his rights, especially when said rights are tangled up with the "rights" of someone from one those countries whose people are viewed with suspicion?  You can't be marrying a British citizen for love!  Before you come to our country, you must pay £1,000 as surety bond (or whatever the right term is), show us your bank statements!  We must be satisfied that you can support yourself.

   May I just say that nobody longs to be an illegal immigrant, even those who are illegal immigrants.  And nobody leaves all that is dear to them because of some paltry benefit money.  I don't even know how much money it is.  And just a last point before we get back to me and my application, none of these laws would deter immigration.  Of any sort, but that is the subject of another post.  So back to me and to the Husband's response to my suggestion.

   He said OK, but it was a OK that was said because saying it would guarantee two weeks of reprieve.  But now, we are fast approaching D-day, and I'm a little worried.  Because I know what his answer will be: "I haven't worked in a month."  Or a month and a few weeks as it will be by then.  So we don't have a lot of money.

   But like I've said, I'm either begging or borrowing the money because something must get done, and it must get done this year.  I'm getting old, and I'm at risk of losing my desire to have my life count for something.  Plus, I don't want to end up as one of those Christians who use God as a crutch.  Rather, I still want to be the Christian who has chuztpah because of her relationship with God, and is absolutely certain of what her life here means, and where that life is heading.

Actually, I'm not an illegal immigrant; I'm an overstayer. Being an illegal immigrant suggests that one entered the country illegally (boats off the coast of Spain spring to mind), when in fact, I came in legally (khosher visa et al) and then stayed on.

It was never in my plans to stay on, but these things happen, and perhaps in subsequent posts, I may well share with you some of the reasons which caused me to stay, suffice to say that I didn't think that being an illegal immigrant would be this hard. Not allowed to work, because it wouldn't be a good idea to go about showing documents which are out of date, and therefore no money to live on.

I'm in a very lucky position that I'm married to a good man who supports me financially, and some of the things that man has had to do and the emotions he has had to deal with, only God knows. And sometimes, I think I'm such a bitch for not quite appreciating him the way I should. You see, I'm grateful that I don't have one of those husbands who knock you about for a yes or a no, but I want more: I want to work and make my own money and not have to provide a blow by blow account of what I had spent the money on, or on what I would like to spend the money on. But at this moment in time, I can't, and the thought of that is depressing me more now than ever before.

I have plans to go back to university and finish my education, and I don't care if I have to pay the £7,000 that foreign students have to pay. I also wouldn't mind going and seeing my family whom I haven't seen for a long, long time. In fact, I wouldn't mind having enough money so that I could say a spontaneous "yes" to a cup of coffee, in a coffee shop with a friend instead of having to think long and hard about it, before deciding that having a coffee at mine would be a better option. And I would also like to help the Husband financially.

I was chatting to a friend recently about the various things I was involved in, and she said, with a sigh and a glint of envy in her eyes: "Oh, I wish I had your life." I simply smiled and asked her if she could deal with my life. We laughed some more but I'm sure she didn't really understand what I meant by her dealing with my life. After all, I seem to be having the great life: the ability to pursue my interests and hobbies because I'm a housewife, who according to her, and to many who know me, doesn't need to work.

But if only she knew that I wouldn't mind leaving the house at 6 o'clock in the morning to catch the tube. Or be able to make some plans. At this moment, I cannot say with confidence that in the middle of next year, I'll be able to see my family. Or that in September, I could go to university. Or that I could do this or that. All I can do is hope, and there is so much hoping a girl can do.