Trouble on the Horizon

I often wonder why I can’t just win lotto and bugger off to live down the coast and be that scary woman in black with the haunted house – where kids cross the street rather than walk past.

In short, I basically work for a rather large and somewhat wieldy organisation that goes through regular upheaval and restructure as the powers that be, attempt to find the meaning of life; or answer the question as to why the department doesn’t work.

In reality, it does work.  It works as well as it can with the funding it gets.  Doesn’t take a mental giant to work that out; hell, I’d tell them for free!  Instead, they hire CIO’s and get in consultants that basically come up with the same answer I just had – except their invoice is a damned site more.

Perhaps the astounding part of this is that each evolution appears to actually get worse than the one previously.  Now, we reach this point; where the fools really are running the show!

What this has to do with the Squeeze is that I find it better if only one area of life goes haywire at a time.  It gives you time out; you cope better.  As much as I figure this is the case, I do not get to experience it I’m afraid.  I have always been “the tower”.   My whole world pretty much just crashes down and I have to build it again.  If nothing else, it keeps you on your toes; makes you resilient.

It is comical how different my life has been to the squeeze, considering we are quite similar…

Obviously, the ‘testicles in the handbag’ is not really in my makeup.  Nor is refusal to face the inevitable or be closed off and/or fear change.  Change is what wakes us up; because no one actually ever said the change was going to be bad – even if you figure it is at the time.

This difference between us; my propensity to walk away (thank you three ex husbands) and his to Moodle on – will be the death of me.

When the last relatively long term relationship I had ended (which I pause to admit lasted far longer than it should have) it was done and dusted.  Over.  Kaput.  Why drag it out?  He was a sleazebag.  I didn’t want or need to be “friends”.  We have spoken maybe once in the 5 years since.  I don’t wish him dead.  I don’t wish him anything. He just ceased to exist really.

Ex husband number two and three that I have children with, I rarely speak too.  I would if I needed to but they don’t pop into my head.  Three seconds after the door shut, they ceased to be a priority for me.  I didn’t move house or clean out rooms and think “ex 1 may need this!” or “look at that, ex 3 would just love this!”  They are ex’s.  They are not my priority.  I couldn’t care less if they mow the lawn or get lost because the grass has grown 10 feet high.

And if they had the audacity to abuse me on email or text; suffice to say I wouldn’t bother to reply, do as demanded or answer again.

I am the “you are dead to me” queen.

He is the “prancing puppy/moodle/do as you are told (literally ‘til death do you part’).

I see trouble on the horizon…