The meaning of life?

Last night James and I had a wee chat.

We were talking about work and our lovely little flat,

about going back to college and finances or I suppose lack of,

and to be honest, it all got very depressing very quickly.

It got me thinking today,

what is the meaning of it all?

What is the point?

It is really depressing to say that money is what makes the world go round,

but really, it is.

The idea of learning and living life is considered "crusty"

whereas back in the time of the Renaissance and the Age of Discovery

Knowledge was Power.

Obviously money was important too but most of the brightest minds that we discuss now died penniless or at most comfortable.

Right now, James and I have a broken phone that we use as a radio and three shelves of books as our entertainment. The situation isn't going to improve anytime soon. But do you know what? I don't think we've ever been this happy as a couple before.

I am at the ripe age of 27 earning minimum wage and James is earning just above it.

Money is a huge problem for us but we are still managing.

And still happy.

Of course, if the situation were to arise where either of us could increase our wages I know that we would welcome it with open arms but would it make us any happier? Or just more comfortable?

And does comfort lead not only to lack of worry but a lack of effort?

I don't know.

Don't get me wrong,

I'm willing to investigate if needs be.

But I guess the point of this little rant of mine is

that I'm tired.

I'm tired of worrying about money.

I'm tired of worrying about bank letters.

Feck off and go to the people who owe you millions

not to those who have lingering student loans

or car loans

or mortgages.

Accommodate those who "due to the current financial problems"

are only allowed work a 3 day week,

or are having their hours cut all the time

at no fault of their own.

Why are we carrying the stress that should belong to a few hundred?

A few hundred corrupt bankers and politicians who thought that they were above the law

and knew better than everybody else.

I wish that sometimes,

just sometimes,

a little glimmer of hope would pop under our door

and rather than say

Louise and James

here is another bill

it would say,

Louise and James,

you know things will work out alright in the end.

Why not have a month off

from those worrying and frustrating

money talks.

Heh! Wishful thinking.

Comments

Ah November. You have returned.

I woke up this morning with a dullness in my heart that I normally don't have in the morning.
On my mornings allocated to sleep in I resemble a sloth blissfully unaware of life in a cocoon, but on a normal morning I wake up with a bit of a bounce. I start my day with a bit of shower time karaoke. I dance around the bedroom as I get dressed for the day. I have a great time. ( Jeez, as I write this I suddenly appreciate Stuart's morning patience a little bit more! Ha!) Anyway, the point being, despite a very early bed time last night I woke up a wee bit deflated.

Then I remembered that my old nemesis November has returned.
I did a quick calculation. Marguerite would be 32 next week.
32! Being 32 was one of my favourite times.
Another quick calculation, Marguerite will be gone 15 years this month. 15 years. 2 more years and she will be gone as long as she was with us.
Every November is a little bit easier than the last. Of course it is. Time is a wonderful healer.
But every cal…

Missing Marguerite. 14 years later.

On this day, 14 years ago, the world lost a little bit of its magic, when at 11pm, my little sister took her final breath and life changed as we all knew it. She was only 17 years old. 17 years and 19 days to be exact. As I sat here today reading all the lovely messages written about her, my heart soared with pride in the fact that in her short time with us, she managed to have such a big impact on so many people. Marguerite Mary O'Dwyer, an ambassador for mischief, mockery and for having a marvellous time. I miss her so much.

It is funny how every year there is something different that I focus on for the anniversary. I never choose my train of thought, I think the year since the last anniversary chooses it for me. Last night, I got fairly plastered on wine and when my other half went to his bed, I sat and sang along to every sad song I could think of. I had a wee chat with Mags before I went to bed and woke up this morning well rested and ready to seize the day.
I got quite sad a…

2020

I have started this blog post four times now.
I think that is a new record for my procrastination.
I didn't do a New Year blog, and my previous versions of this were a look back on 2019.
I'll be very honest, I don't want to look back on 2019.
I want to put it in a box, and seal it away forever.

There were some fabulous moments. Of course there were! I got engaged to the most wonderful man I have ever known. I witnessed the weddings of some of my best friends. Babies were born. There was an abundance of soft play, cuddles and karaoke.

For me, 2019 will mostly remind me of being ill. It was a huge part of the year. The worry consumed me for the majority of the latter half. I now know more about hypertension, blood pressure, kidney function and kidney failure than I ever thought necessary.

It sucks being ill. It sucks knowing that you have an illness that will never go away. It doesn't feel fair. If I am very honest with myself I went into a little bit of a pity pit for a w…

Life of Lu

Search This Blog