Ann's POZ Blog

Every night when it’s time to go to bed, I do all the usual things like tidy up the kitchen, brush my teeth, and turn off electronics and lights. The cats have their own little ritual as well. They wake up from their evening nap, have a snack and a play fight, then visit the litter tray. This is where, now, everything changes. At the point where normally they stake out their portion of king-sized bed and I put on my jammies, I cuddle each one good-night, put on my coat and head out the door.

Phlea, Vester and Fred have taken to following me into the hallway. They sit in a row. They blink. They look at each other and back at me. Last night Vester and Fred followed me down to the door, saying, “we’re sleeping in the garden tonight too!”

“No chance fellas. You’ll freeze your… oh, they’re already gone, aren’t they. Sorry ‘bout that. Let’s just say you’ll be cold.” I’ve tried explaining to them the concept of a B&B, but I’m met with cold stares of disbelief. To them, the only thing one does in a stranger’s house is have a snack – one certainly does not sleep there. It’s just not the done thing. (My cats think they’re posh.)

I can’t complain about the B&B. My room, although quite small, is en-suite, very clean, warm, and comfy. Sorta comfy. The bed is lovely and soft – or it would be if I wasn’t prone to lower back and hip problems. When I awoke the first morning, I could barely move. After that, two pillows under my legs instead of one (I sleep on my back) have worked well and it hasn’t been as bad. I still need to be careful how I get out of bed, but a few minutes in a hot shower and hey! Presto! I can move. Stretching exercises during the day help as well. I can’t have my back go on me like it did last Easter – not when I’m going to be shifting those books soon!

So far, I’ve spent ten nights in the B&B, with no immediate end to strange sleeping arrangements in sight. I’m booked in through this coming Friday, February 9th, (three weeks after eviction) but where I’ll be Saturday night is anybody’s guess. I very much doubt the housing authority will continue to pay for a B&B, and rightly so when there will be a house available. BUT. There has been talk of putting me in the available house only temporarily. I’m hoping I don’t have to move twice.

I should probably clarify something here. One house will be ready from this Wednesday. It’s the first one I was told I had, and then told I didn’t have. Another house will be ready next mid-week – the second one I was told I had, and then told I didn’t have. I might be allocated the first, the second, or none of the above. I might be given one of them temporarily, until something else comes up. No, it doesn’t make much sense to me either, as both are suitable from either point of view. It’s something to do with the housing chain I mentioned in a previous blog. In the meantime, I spend my days in my condemned flat and hike up the road to sleep at night.

As long as I can keep using my flat during the day I suppose it doesn’t matter where I’m sleeping, as long as it’s warm and dry. The situation is frustrating but I’m grateful that it will all be better in the long run. So much better! I haven’t stopped dreaming about having a real kitchen and central heating.

Despite my happiness over the prospect of better housing, I’ve been feeling distinctly fungal lately. Being kept in the dark tends to do that to a person. The “emergency meeting” promised by the Town Clerk never materialised. On Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, it seemed as though a decision was imminent. Finally, on Thursday, I was informed my situation would be discussed and possibly action would be decided upon, at the Commissioners’ meeting this coming Wednesday evening. In other words, they’re gonna talk, guaranteed, but actually agreeing on a plan of action, well, that’s anyone’s guess.

All this indecision and mind-changing on the part of the Town Hall has made it difficult for me to rouse the motivation to start packing. I’ve done a few boxes, but if I’m going to end up somewhere temporarily, then I see no point in packing things I use daily – or even weekly. I was promised the use of my flat until something permanent is found, as it’s only going to be used for storage from now on and allegedly, there’s no rush. Allegedly. We’ll see.

Hopefully I’ll have some news on Thursday – if I don’t burst too many brain cells with anxiety by then. If any readers are sending positive energy, please also send the number seven – the house number where I’m hoping to go on a permanent basis and the one that will be ready Wednesday. Thank you!