Another busy week so far (are there any un-busy weeks?) Three days at college, accompanied by the usual mad rush with The Things. Feel bad as I enjoy my time away from them just a bit too much.
Monday started with a talk from Iain Dale, the famous political blogger, who motivated me to start this. Didn't necessarily agree with everything he said - he's got some funny ideas about life, but hey, that's the strange semi-real world he comes from that does that. Obviously very influential, well-connected and entertaining - a trail blazer when it comes to blogging and internet TV. Reckons the candidate shortlists for the Conservatists are unfair now there's a 50/50 split between the sexes. Excuse me? He said it was discriminatory. Wouldn't have it that women may find certain barriers to success and progress up the slippery pole anymore. You try convincing an employer/tutor/selection committee you're fit for the job/course/country with a child sized gap on your CV. To say nothing of the streak of snot smeared onto your left knee that I discovered just that bit too late this morning.
Still, he said he wants a few of us to appear on his internet TV show - should be interesting, and I have to profess that a man in possession of a good book shop is always OK by me.
Spent most of Tuesday sorting out phone and internet. Thought it was a fault on the line until the nice BT engineer informed me that, actually, we'd been cut off. He was very good about it, but it meant a grovelling phone call to Tiscali who laughed politely at my explanation for non-payment (dog's chewed my homework, Sir) and reconnected us before Darling Husband (DH) found out what had happened. He hasn't forgiven me for the plate I threw at him when he didn't pay the gas bill, so thought I'd better keep this one quiet. Can't afford to lose any more crockery - we're nearly onto the Fireman Sam plastic stuff as it is.
My lovely childminder Alison, who is far too nice to be looking after my Things, was in floods of tears when I dropped the kids off. Her sister was diagnosed with a repetition of a brain tumour on Friday and was given 3 weeks to live by a doctor who told her before she broke the news that she was in a real rush and having a terrible day - coat and bag in hand - so wouldn't be able to talk for long. The doctor was having a bad day? Not as bad as Alison's sister, husband and three small children, that's for sure.
They are now being mucked about horrendously by the bureaucrats. There's a chance she may be able to have a 'shit or bust' operation but the local hospital failed to send the necessary scans to the London hospital when they said they would and the London hospital now won't be able to get the necessary doctors together until Friday to consult- a week into the three week countdown with the prognosis weakening by the hour. Have suggested all sorts of things - faxing the CEO, calling her MP or the local rag to put the heat on but the whole family is just in shock and can't get their act together. It brings back awful memories of the same stuff happening when both Mum and Dad died. Nothing seems to ever move on - millions wasted on 'Agenda for Change' and executives in charge of paperclips on vast salaries, but when the little person needs some real help and support it's just not there. Quite literally tragic.
Sorry to end on a downer. Tomorrow will be more fun - off to a well known rehab clinic for a 'family therapy' session with my sister, a rather unwilling inmate. Can't wait....
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