H)The Day from Hell.

Sunday 6th October 2002.

I've had the day from hell!

Last night had its troubles too. All of my own making.

Let's do last night first.

I was in a funny mood yesterday, I felt a bit low and had absolutely no
reason for feeling like that. By God I have now!

I think I was a bit sad at not making Carol's party after she'd been
good enough to invite me. I think I could have been useful, if only to
talk to George (another UKA guest who doesn't know anybody) so that he
didn't feel alone with everyone else knowing each other and the lovely
hostess having to mingle.

Anyway Pete came and everything was good. I was tired as always and
couldn't wait to get to bed &;#8230; to cuddle and talk in
comfort!

Inevitably our kisses became more passionate and hands started roaming
and much later he asked where the condoms were. I directed him to the
one Cli' had left me. Bright bloody orange! (though we didn't know that
until this morning when we woke up and eventually laughed about it)
After much ado and some softening we managed to get the damned thing
on, in more or less the manner intended. I handled him for awhile to
remove some of the latex and then we messed around with a bit more
foreplay. I waited until he indicated he was ready, and assumed pole
position.

Within seconds he had shrivelled and died.

Tim always told me I was ugly. Once he said " Let me take you from
behind and then I don't have to look at your face."

Pete would never be cruel, he's lovely but I felt as though his penis
was telling me how repulsive I am.

It was awful.

He got quite annoyed, he doesn't swear a lot either but he said "
Christ I can't feel a fucking thing."

Well even Tim wasn't that blunt.

I swear the thought that went through my mind was 'I must have a vagina
like outer space.'

I felt so useless.

I rolled over and was completely turned off. He moved on top of me and
tried to gain access. I didn't stop him but my libido had packed its
hold-all and moved to foreign climes by this point. He tried for
probably about quarter of an hour. And eventually said

"I'm not turned on enough."

Which I don't think helped matters any.

By now I had a whole new problem. If I'm very aroused I can usually
cope with the missionary position fine. But if I'm not I panic.

Pete was on top of me smothering my face with kisses, trying to get a
response and I just froze. I hate any man looming over me. I was abused
repeatedly from the age of six. I couldn't talk, or say anything all I
was concentrating on was being able to breathe.

Eventually he gave up and lay down beside me.

I went down stairs to calm down and have a drink and a cigarette. I
felt so ugly. I cried and composed myself for maybe half an hour tops.
I wanted to talk to Pete about things. I'm in love with him and wanted
to sort things out between us. But when I got back upstairs he was
asleep. Poor bloke hasn't had an early night for weeks thanks to our
relationship.

I didn't sleep much and lay awake for ages. When he woke up he smiled
and rolled over to give me a cuddle and I knew it was going to be all
right.

It took me ages to be able to speak, every time I tried to formulate
the question I wanted to ask my eyes filled up and I didn't want to
bawl like a big soft kid in front of him.

It's funny I went over the question again and again trying to get it
out, but now I can't even remember what it was. I think it was
something like.

"Will I lose you if things don't improve sexually?"

We talked and he said not to worry it's still early days and that
eventually things will sort between us. As he said we've both been
shattered constantly and it's far more difficult for a man to perform
when he's exhausted.

I mentioned what he'd said about not being able to feel anything. And
he laughed and said, "don't be daft, you're great, I meant the
condom!"

The condom was so thick that it desensitised everything.

This morning was much, much better. I really didn't want to because I
was terrified of feeling rejected again. But any man whose ever had the
distinct pleasure (hah) of sleeping with me knows that I arouse very
easily. Like Pete says "Is there any part of you that isn't
sensitive?"

Soon I threw caution to the wind and off we went. I'm on the pill now
(I know it's not recommended as sole protection for the first month) so
we didn't bother with a condom, partly because last night was such a
disaster and partly because we don't have any. Pete went on top again
and I didn't have any problem with it at all. It was lovely, not
explosions and fireworks, but gentle and caring and enough. It worked
for both of us and was very loving.

He told me that I've got more sexual energy than any other woman he's
been with. Not quite sure what that means exactly but I think it means
that it was okay.

Okay he might not be as attracted to me as he was to B, and I might not
be the best lover in the world. But it doesn't matter what he's had
before. He told me that he loves me. And that's good enough for me. No
more looking back, no more paranoia, no more feeling worthless. He
loves me.

But is he IN love with me?

Does that matter?

After we made love I dragged him upstairs to the shower. He has never,
ever been showered by a lover. He said the last person to wash him was
his mother. To me that is the perfect way to show someone you care
about them. There's something very intimate and special about cleaning
a body you've just made love with. Or even better getting one clean TO
make love. I think from now on we're going to be spending a lot of time
getting wet.

Okay I looked ridiculous because I had to go in with a long Indian
cotton skirt on. I'm not quite comfortable enough to be naked with him
yet, but in every other way I'm totally uninhibited so that will
come.

We went out for lunch, another damned 'Soozie-Screw-Up' ordeal but it
worked out okay. We went with Lou and Tat. Thank-god our Lou was hung
over to hell and couldn't eat a thing that gave me a nice 'out' so I
didn't have to eat either. But after saying that I did really well
because I nicked quite a few chips off Mark. It was really hard
actually putting them in my mouth and chewing in front of people, but I
think I pulled it off great and I was the only one who knew I was
uncomfortable about it.

Then we went to visit my Auntie Mavis. She never got the chance to say
anything, but I could tell that she really liked Pete. Especially when
he gave her a hug and called her 'Auntie Mave' as we were
leaving.

Then we went to Barrow to see Jan she hasn't had the baby yet, but I
tell you that stomach `ain't gonna stretch no more. That sucker's going
to come out one way or another and if she doesn't get a move on it's
going to be right through a busted gut.

I'm sad that I can't be there when she's born. Jan wanted me there
originally. If only so that she'd have someone to laugh at her. But the
man who baby's going to be calling Daddy has finally agreed to be there
and that can only be good for Jan. I'm pleased for her.

I'm tired, depressed and emotionally whirling. Stopping now. Will do
the rest tomorrow.

Tuesday 8th October 2002.

I've been putting this off a bit. It's weird but when I have loads of
fairly 'big' stuff to write it's a lot harder to get out than a few
paragraphs of my usual rubbish.

So going back to Sunday afternoon.

We came out of auntie Mavis'; Mark had wound the back window of the car
down and was sitting on the window with his legs in the car and the
rest of him out of the car. I shouted at him to get in the car, it was
obvious that he was showing off in front of Joseph.

After we left Jan's we were driving home and I got pulled by the
police. When the sirens went off I thought they just wanted to get
passed me, so I smiled and pulled over. I wasn't best pleased when they
pulled in behind me. Usually when the police have pulled me, they talk
to me at the side of the road, but on Sunday they asked me to go and
sit in the backseat of their car.

Inside they had a computer that they'd been using to video us.
Apparently Mark had been leaning out of the car to his waist. 'Hadn't I
just yelled at him for leaning out of the car and told him it was
dangerous?' I don't know why I never checked that he had his seat belt
on or Joseph. I suppose it's because I'm so used to him being in the
front of the car and he always puts his belt on in the front. Every
time I see a cop car I ask if he's got it on and he always has. Now I'm
a totally different matter, I never, ever wear a seatbelt. This is for
two reasons, one although I buzz about all over the place with work,
often I'll find myself working a fairly condensed area so it's
pointless putting it on and taking it off every two minutes. And
secondly I find it too damned restricting. I don't mind when I'm a
passenger in someone else's car, because I tend to pull the belt away
from my body and hold onto it. I just hate them when I'm driving. I
feel restricted and as though I can't drive properly. I'm a terrible
driver anyway so having anything hampering me is not good. I rode
Trikes for so many years that I'm not used to being all closed in and
cased up.

Anyway getting back to Mark. He had been showing off as usual, partly
to Joseph and partly to all the people sitting outside the Rusty
Knacker. The policeman said that he had the window right down and was
leaning out as far as it was possible to lean.

I apologised and said that I hadn't seen him. I smiled politely at the
nice policeman and said that I'd give Mark a good talking to when I got
him home.

"I bet you will an all." Said his partner.

There was something about his tone that made me think all was not
pleasantly over. He hadn't seen on his little computer that I didn't
have a belt on had he?

The next thing I knew I'd been fined ?60 quid and given three points on
my licence for not keeping my kid under control in the car. Damn that
stung.

Worse was too come.

The copper got out of the car and went to talk to Mark. He checked my
tax disk and I grinned inwardly knowing all was in order. And then he
saw the punctured tyre on the backseat. It'd been there over a week and
I still hadn't had it fixed meaning that the bald tyre was still on the
car. Oh, oh I was starting to get a nasty feeling of foreboding.

Sure enough the next thing he did was checked the tyre and I was
instantly issued with another three points.

I already had three points from years ago for another bald tyre three
plus the six I'd just received makes nine.

But two years ago when I was living with Tat, he was working for a
building firm. He used to drive my car all the time. He told me he was
insured on the works insurance, and so he was for their vehicles as a
named driver, but that didn't cover him for my car. I truly believed
him and I think he even believed it himself (though I wouldn't swear to
that.) Anyway the upshot was that even though I had perfect third party
insurance for myself, I got done for no insurance for letting Tat drive
my car. ?250 fine and six points.

Three, plus six, plus three, plus three = Up the creek and sinking
fast.

Fifteen points in total and I'm going to lose my licence for sure.
Pete says to fight it in court on the grounds of needing the car for my
job, but I don't think it will do me any good.

So no licence = no job. No job = no car.

It seems that I lost my licence, my job, my car and my son all in one
day.

I suppose taking it to extreme's if I can't manage to pay my rent I'll
lose the house as well. Once I got home things only got worse.

I had to produce my docs within seven days. I found everything I needed
except my licence. 'No problem it must be here somewhere.' I keep all
my important documents in the same place.

Have you ever had one of those flashbacks that come in slow motion and
you suddenly realise you're doomed? Something in my mind took me back
to my previous car, in fact my previous but one last car. Not the Cav I
only had that two months, the Maestro. I distinctly remember putting my
licence in the glove box one day. I don't ever remember taking it out
again and that car was scrapped months ago. Oh hell.

On Saturday night Cli' had rung in a state. Sammy was down staying with
him this weekend and his car had broken down. He rang up to ask if Pete
could possibly give Sammy a lift home with him on the Sunday and I said
that as long as he offered Pete a tenner's petrol money I'd ask.

On the Sunday I meant to ring Cli' in the morning to let him know it
was okay but it slipped my mind. I rang him after talking to the police
about my licence on Sunday night. He was already angry with me for
leaving it so long. I told him that everything was fine for Pete giving
Sammy a lift home. I tried to tell Cli' about what had happened and
everything I stood to lose but he didn't give a damn. I asked if I
could borrow a tyre off his Astra. It was standing outside his house
doing nothing. He wouldn't lend it to me (partly because his dad was
yelling at him not to in the background). This meant that I couldn't
get to work first thing on Monday morning because obviously I couldn't
risk driving the car with the police looking out for me.

I've had a lot of trouble with work the last couple of weeks especially
with J in control instead of M. She was going to just love me letting
them down at almost no notice on a Sunday night.

Cli' was really shirty and started raising his voice. So I told him not
to start having a go at me.

That was it, the famous Cli' temper went and he told me to stick my
Effing lift because he was going to take Sammy home himself. He
continued to scream and swear at me and then hung up.

I tried time and again to ring him back and each time he ignored me I
got madder.

I later found out from Dawn that when he hung up on me and swore at me
his dad was clapping his hands and telling him 'Good lad'.

Finally I rang Dawn I started off calmly enough telling her what had
happened and could she please ring my son because he was ignoring me. I
asked her to tell Cli' to have Sammy at the Shell garage by quarter to
seven for her lift I don't know why but Dawn's calm voice irritated the
hell out of me and I ended up shouting at her too.

None of this was her fault so I had to apologise at length to her. She
rang Cli' but the stupid, stubborn, childish, totally selfish little
arsehole didn't want anything off me, or off my boyfriend. I'd made my
choice apparently and he's no longer any son of mine.

Yeah fine! Until next time he wants money he means.

This meant that Jimmy who had just finished a long day at work had to
drive the works van all the way to Carlisle and back but that's okay of
course, because Cli's a proud man so it doesn't matter who else he
inconvineiences.

Proud my foot! He's just a selfish little boy having a childish
tantrum.

I did what I said I would and arranged a lift for Sammy. Pete said he
wasn't bothered about any petrol money, but I wanted Cli' to be a man
and make the gesture anyway. If he'd taken her in his own car it would
have cost him at least twenty quid. Having to go in the works van cost
Jimmy's work twenty-quid, but Cli' kicked up a fuss to Dawn and said
that he shouldn't have to pay anything for Sammy to get home because
Pete was going anyway. Fair comment but why should Cli' always have to
find the 'free way' out of everything? Pete still has his diesel to pay
for.

When he got to Dawn's apparently he winged about me for two hours and
said that as from Sunday night on he has no Mother. Oh my, I wonder
which parent he gets that from? And in all honesty it probably isn't
his dad, Jimmy's many things most of them uncomplementary, but he's not
usually prone to being a drama queen.

Cli' and I have gone through this once before and I never saw him for
months and months. He wouldn't return my calls. If I called at the
house he refused to see me, and that was only over a phone bill.

Cli' hurt me terribly when I was in hospital and I realised then that
my son and I aren't as close as I thought we were. I love him, and I'm
here for him, and if he needs me, he knows where to find me. However
this time I'm not going to go running after him. He might speak to his
father like that, but I will not allow him to swear at me. I'm his
Mother and I not only demand respect, but I deserve it.

Jess, Pete's dog bit Mark. It's not serious and he is up to date on
tetanus and such like. Mark was trying to separate a fight between Jess
and Kali and Jess went to bite Kalls, missed, and got Mark instead. It
was nothing to worry about but just the moment of it added to the
general rising stress levels.

It was awful when Pete had to go. I felt really down and depressed. I
just hope nothing's changed between us and that I haven't put him off.
We had a lovely morning and now it all feels as though it might have
gone pear shaped.

After Pete left, the washing machine broke down. Mark flooded the
kitchen floor. The frying pan shook itself off the washer and spread
fat all over my kitchen. And then just when I thought nothing else
could possibly go wrong I had my problems with Sime out.

It was all a huge mistake. Completely my own fault. And I take back
every single word I said about him being selfish and egotistical for
only sending me half a manuscript to edit.

The way I work is that I have the sheaf of papers in my hand and as I
complete a sheet I pass it to the back of the pile. The only time you
know you've finished is when you are confronted with a sheet of paper
that's already been done.

I never once in those almost three hours had occasion to turn a piece
of paper over. If I had done I would have seen that the paper was
double sided. And that page two was on the back.

I can't believe I was THAT stupid. I told Sime in no uncertain terms
that it felt as though he doesn't trust me. I can only apologise again
on here for doubting him. He's very offended and I feel awful.

Stupid, stupid, woman.

My day's disasters were finally over. Nothing else was going to go
wrong because it was bedtime. But I hadn't allowed for the Simpson
Curse.

Poor Pete got home and his shed had been burgled. His bike was taken
and a lot of vandalism done. The windows had been smashed and stuff
thrown around.

The day from hell.