Showing posts with label driving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label driving. Show all posts

Thursday, 4 October 2012

Forces beyond one's control and other existential crises


I've been reading the latest Elizabeth Gilbert book, "Committed", which is largely about her plight of having to get married in order to resolve an issue with immigration that sent her and her boyfriend into a horrible limbo of travelling and waiting for permission to marry in order to be accepted back into the US, despite the fact that she and her boyfriend had sworn off marriage for life after their painful divorces. I'm gripped by it, not only because of the similarity of opinion that she expresses throughout the book about how she sees marriage as something that has always benefited men, while robbing women of much of their previous strength and autonomy, but also because her situation of a kind of exile in a lifestyle she doesn't want reflects my current predicament so profoundly.

I admire her writing style in amongst what could otherwise be quite dry subject matter of statistics and research findings about marriage across various time periods and locations. I'm also humbled by the way in which her relationship endures this incredibly demanding challenge. In having to stay out of the US and keep travelling, and having to face doing the very thing they said they'd never do, just to be able to stay living together, I feel every bit of her struggle to comprehend how debilitating it is to be at the mercy of a power greater than you. In her case, the US immigration system. In my case, the recession, or maybe it's not the recession, it's just some outer force that has decided that for me to ever progress in my life, I have to be thrust back into the very surroundings and circumstances that not only I said I'd never want to be in, but also that reflect everything I have tried to avoid in my life since leaving home. I cannot understand how I have got to this age, travelled this far, (ok, not that far from the UK really) and ended up in a place that reminds me of everything I hated about my childhood.

I do not want to live in the suburbs, far away from connection with the vibrant city, but that is where I grew up, and where I am again now, albeit in another country. I do not want to be judged and held in shame for mistakes I've made or things I want but can't seem to get, yet that is what countless sarcastic comments and repeated stories jokingly retold in both my childhood and in my current relationship seem designed to do. I do not want to be dependent on someone else's income and unable to afford to buy the kind of healthy food I really long for, the kind of quality clothes I really desire because I want things that make me feel good and last a long time, the kind of books and magazines that keep me informed about the world, the kind of technology that enables me to pursue my creative projects freely and efficiently and yet, this is the position I am in. 

Whatever force is at play here, I am certainly aware of the irony, the amusement, the shame in all of this. I can hear the voice of my uncle poised to say, "She speaks all these foreign languages and studied so much and she still can't earn enough to live on her own!  Ha ha!" I also know that he is a pretty messed-up individual with 'issues' of his own that are none of my business, as mine should be none of his. I am willing to learn whatever it is I need to learn here, but it is painful. It is not easy to live with someone who gets angry with me for not being able to drive because, "that's what normal people do" and I don't fall into the category of 'normal' adequately enough for him. I am perfectly 'normal' for anyone living in a busy, capital city with an integrated public transport system, and what is more, I did drive, I got a licence when I could but I have since had little opportunity to practise seeing as I haven't needed a car, nor would it have made much sense to have one, central London parking costs being what they are. But I am being picked at for my failings as a suitable suburban housewife, with no compassion for the fact that the last thing I am or will ever be is a suburban housewife.

So I soldier on. One day at a time. One writing assignment at a time. One advertisement applied to at a time. I am counting every penny (or rather crown) and trying to keep 'going without' things, such as still not getting my hair cut since March, still not buying any new jumpers or leggings even though I need them, still not being able to afford a flat because I have to keep the money my sister lent me as emergency money for income loss, not as flat deposit money. I will not be able to afford to move into a new flat until I get some regular work that pays me enough to cover food, phone bill, travelcard and still have some left over for all the other costs and some left over to save up with because not only have rents gone up while my salary has plummeted, but I will soon have to pay healthcare, taxes and national insurance here in a bid to gamble on getting more work as a result of having the documentation clients need to get their bosses to release funds for their training, that as far as I can ascertain will cost me a third of what my rent will probably be, which means, not only do I need to earn more than I am earning now (clearly) but I need to be earning more than I was when I was working for lots of clients in order to cover higher rent and more charges on top of the usual stuff.

Hence, I need a miracle. A job offer that brings me a liveable wage, a series of high-paying clients and a regular writing job that pays a wage someone in London could actually buy their grocery shopping each week with (at least) or else I have to contemplate moving into a shared house, which totally defeats the object of being in Prague altogether, because that was the only thing I hoped to gain by coming here.  And I had it. That lovely central, really reasonably priced flat all to myself. I had it for two years and I am enormously grateful for it. I would dearly love to start making some gains now, instead of fielding more losses. I would love to have an opportunity to show how much better I am at living when I actually get to do it in my own private space. Whatever force is at play holding me here, I hope it will teach me whatever it is I have to learn as rapidly and solidly as it can because when I leave here, I do not want to have to come back. Ever.

Monday, 20 June 2011

Two rainbows, a double chocolate Magnum and a few tears

I still don't know what to think about this whole relationship thing.  How does anyone ever survive them?  I feel at a loss after a weekend of such ups and downs.  I actually feel a bit sick.  But that could also be due to my attempts to lose weight by not eating more than cereal and an apple.  But maybe I'm only trying to lose weight because I feel so miserable about everything else.  Or maybe I'm just miserable and that's just me and there's nothing anyone can do about it.

Ups:

1) I had a Magnum



2) I tried out driving again, after a two year gap since I last tried and a 15 year gap since I last drove properly.

3) I went for a walk in the forest, which was beautiful.

4) I got to watch some of a film I quite like, snuggling up on the sofa.

5) I had some hugs and kisses.

6) I had some red wine.  Because I brought some.


Downs:

1) There is no downside to a Magnum.  (Apart from getting fat, which is something to consider, actually...)

2) I was abysmal at driving.

3a) It rained just as we went out for a walk in the forest and I was cold, until I walked faster and the sun came out and I got too hot, then it rained again and I got cold again.  Oh and my clothes for walks in the forest are uncomfortable. 

3b) The walk in the forest was about an hour longer than I found enjoyable.

3c) The walk in the forest was a mere fraction of the time the architect would like to spend walking in forests or up mountains on our holiday next week.

4) I didn't get to watch all of the film.  The architect was still tidying up when I arrived (after a planned day off from me for him to do whatever sorting out of his flat he had wanted to do) so we ate late and we didn't have the pizza or any kind of warm food I'd hoped to have, just a sort of Czech-style cold meat pub-snack affair...

5) I don't know if I will ever have hugs and/or kisses again, because the architect seems pretty annoyed that I didn't enjoy the forest walk very much.  Signing off 'bye' in recent correspondence would seem a bad sign, really, wouldn't it?

6) There is no red wine left. 

All I can say is, I hope the two rainbows that appeared in the sky just as I was leaving the architect to go home, is a symbol that there is hope left for us, even though the second one is very faint.



Please let that hope be true.  Please.