Nice surprise for us yesterday evening. One of the lads I work with has a mate who works backstage at the King's Theatre in Glasgow, and he occasionally gets free tickets for whatever's on. He approached me yesterday afternoon, said "I know it's short notice, but any chance you'd be able to get a babysitter tonight? I've got a couple of spare tickets for a show."
At first I was refusing, but then he told me it was for the Buddy Holly musical, which Linzi has wanted to see since last year after her brother raved about it. She even emailed me the other day telling me it was on at the moment, asking if we could maybe go.
If I had been more cunning, I could've pretended I forked out £50 for the tickets and it was a secret birthday treat for her. I'm too honest sometimes. Bah.
Anyway, L pressured her mother into coming over to babysit, and out we went, for a thoroughly enjoyable night. Much better than sitting watching bullshit television, and it was nice to escape the babies for a short while.
I felt really bad for this large lady sitting in front of me. She was out with three of her mates, and during the show, she pulls out this bag of grapes. Her friends looked at her, all sympathetic, and said "Oh hon, how's the weight watchers going?". She's contemplating her grapes, looking all forlorn, and you know she's thinking "I wish this was a bowl of chocolate-covered strawberries washed down with some Cookies and Cream Häagen-Daz", but she responds quite cheerily, saying it's not going too badly, she lost 3 pounds last week, etc etc. Her friends nod supportively, then pull out these huge boxes of chocolates (when I say huge, I mean, they weren't just your regular petrol-station-size boxes of chocs, these were like the big tins of sweets most people only buy at Christmas), and start munching away. Right in front of this poor girl. She was salivating like that rabid bitch that Laurie shanked the other day.
I felt bad for her, because you just knew she was going to cave.
On the way home last night, the wipers on the car broke. In the pelting cunting rain. This is the third thing in the past six weeks to go wrong with this fucking heap of shit. First I had to fork out £160 for a new key, then the mysterious car-won't-start-right-now-but-when-I-try-it-tomorrow-it's-fine problem that's plagued me recently, and now these bastard wipers.
In fairness, it's about six months overdue for a service, and I'm fully aware of how dangerous it is - the rear tyres are bald, the brakes are fucked, and now I can't see out my windscreen in this beshitted Scottish weather.
This month is a total bastard. It's my grandparent's 50th wedding anniversary, and I am absolutely gutted that we can't get home for it. It's such a big occasion for the family, and what a wonderful surprise it would be for them if their great-grandchildren were to be there to celebrate it with them. They haven't even seen Jack yet - I'd love if that weekend were their first time. However, try as we might, we just don't have the money to spare. It's also Linzi's 30th birthday, so I need a bit of money for that. Plus, our camcorder got repaired and that's costing £143 to get fixed. I also promised I would do the garden for L, as part of her birthday. And now these various car things, which I'm estimating will cost between £300 and £500 to sort out.
I swear, no matter how much money I'm earning, it never seems to be enough. I got a 25% payrise only two months ago, and I'm still a full £1070 (that's over $2000 US) short for everything I need to get done this month. Linzi and I sometimes joke that we wish we had a rich relative who'd die or something, because we just never seem to get a break when it comes to money. I could ask my Dad for some help, but I'm reluctant to do so for a variety of reasons.
Of course, I know there are tons of people in a similar situation, but it's my fucking blog, fucker. I'm allowed to moan here if I want to.
Any advice on how to make any additional income without compromising on the time I spend with my family? And no, dealing heroin's not an option.