If I wanted to, I could make a long list of all the bad things that happened to me over the years, but I won’t depress myself.  Thinking of the last year alone would be reason enough to jump off a cliff.

First of all, there was that new job. It was in an advertising company, a bit of a change for me.  When I walked through the glass doors into the large reception area, I felt I was already going up a notch.  There was red leather couches, chrome pillars and exotic plants everywhere.  The girl behind the reception desk looked like something out of Vogue.  When she called my name, I noticed she wore false eyelashes, and nails that had never seen a scrubbing brush.  “I’m too old for this place” I thought.  “Positive thoughts!” I told myself.  I immediately switched to a different persona and let the “new me” do the talking.

I did get the job, much to my surprise, and the following weekend, decided to go on a spending spree, credit card in hand.  I needed a few new outfits to fit the job, and, well, I hadn’t spent anything on myself in a long time.  The only trouble was, I wanted to be savvy about what I bought. I purchased two new suits, then I had to buy two blouses to go with them.  My present shoes looked a bit shabby when I tried on a new pair, and well, I’d had the bag since God knows when.  “Start from the inside out” was what all the stylists tell you, so out with the old and in with the new. To top it all, there was a really good hair stylists waiting for me to take the plunge.  I was getting a bit anxious when I saw all the hair on the floor around me, but a young trainee soon swept it out of sight.   I had palpitations thinking what I had spent, but consoled myself that with the new job and good wages, I’d have the credit card paid off in no time.  It was all great.  I settled in with the new job, new people, and things really looked rosy.  Then came the bombshell.  Six months in, and the firm went bust.  Some of the girls said they could see it coming, but there wasn’t a whisper until we all got our marching orders.

And so I left with one arm as long as the other.  My friend and I drank two bottles of wine discussing my next move, and apart from a sore head on Sunday morning, my options didn’t look good.  Weeks went by.  I got some Temping here and there.  I could just about pay the rent, but what was left didn’t even stretch to a bottle of vino on Saturday night.  I muddled through.  After sending off several CV’s and going to a few interviews, I got a job as secretary in an insurance office.  I was on the up again.  Bills were being paid, including my credit card.  I had no high notions about status in my new employment.  At least I had the new clothes to give the impression of someone upwardly mobile.  I declined the after work drinks and lunches out.  I kept my head down.  People started to talk about holidays abroad and plans for the summer.  I said I was going to a relative living on the coast.  Surprisingly no one showed much interest, so I got away with it.  I was making it up anyway

I often thought about how easy it was for other people my age to have their lives sorted.  Husbands, family, nice homes, holidays abroad.  My life seemed to just struggle mundanely onwards, month after month.  I remember being told years ago to “be grateful for what you’ve got.  There are other people worse off”.  Yes, I know.  It’s all relative really, isn’t it?  I’d fantasize about winning the lottery, while I sat with my feet up watching the soaps on television.  I’d buy a house by the sea, give some money to my family, give some to charity, and some to the RSPCA.  I’d make sure I had a nest egg so that I’d never have to worry about everyday bills again.  Those kind of dreams kept me going, even when week after week I felt like I was throwing money down the drain.  Then, out of the blue, I was asked out by this lovely man from work. “Play it cool” I told myself.  I tried not to be too keen.  “Sorry I can’t make it this Friday, but if you’re free next week sometime, that would be great” I told him.  I bought a video on Friday night so I wouldn’t be thinking of him.  We went out the following Thursday night.  He took me to a lovely restaurant in the city centre straight from work.  I reverted to my “new persona” and made myself feel like I was really used to eating out at stylish restaurants.  Strangely enough, it felt natural.  Life was really meant to be like this. I’d love to ask you in” I said coyly when he dropped me home,  “only my sister is staying and has to get up early tomorrow morning”, I lied.  He kissed me on the lips, lingering for a moment, and looked back before getting into his car.   Did that look mean he believed me or he didn’t?  I wasn’t sure. He must have liked me because we went out for six months.  Then he told me he was being transferred abroad.  I never quite understood what he did for a living, though I did try to find out.  He was always a bit evasive.   I minded more being on my own after that.

Then I got notice on my flat because the landlord was in trouble financially and was selling the house.  I felt I was back to square one again.   A girl from work told me about a flat that was going near her and I took it.  It was a dump, but It would do for a while. I felt so dejected, I joined the local tech and did an Assertiveness Course, for all the good that did me!

It’s funny how things work out.  Just when I thought I couldn’t cope with another disappointment, I met a girl from school.  We had been friends, but lost touch over time.  She had moved to New York and as we sat having coffee in “The Paradiso”, I was mesmerised at the stories she was telling me.  While my life was going from one fiasco to another, she was on the up and up in the Big Apple, living the life.

Now, months later, home after another working day, I look across the river and I’m dazzled by the New York skyline. I wonder why it took me so long to see that there could be something better.  I do miss home.  I miss, well I’m sure there’s plenty of things I miss, if I had the time to think about them.