Rambling on

It's odd how if you're meant to be working and sneak off everything you do seems far more interesting. My first appointment cancelled today only really leaving me to do another job but I went to the park on a sunny day, a part I'd never even seen until I saw an entrance on a map, and got some more pictures, which means I can get them included in the prints I'll be ordering later. I filled the day quite happily with little jobs mainly online and sod the work, it isn't even paid a lot and not worth the time and effort involved.
Otherwise it's only half a day since my last report, and my Funtrivia blog seems dead while the other faulty ones are reviving. I have to send that email today, nothing will help and I doubt if I send it now or next week it'll make any difference. Non events every time. And whatever I expect that's any good tends to be a non event, like a stillbirth however different anyone having suffered from that may think it is. If you add every disappointment in our lives together, they are all the same. Only a matter of degree but the effect is the same. And this particular disappointment is one I shouldn't have to be making a writing exercise out of. Out of every possible pleasure situation this could be the second most potential result had it gone to plan.

But no, any offer that has been made to me was a limited time offer. Mine ran out when I didn't take it up around 1984, and having been married and divorced she is clearly uninterested in following up any more aggravation even though I would not provide any more than wanting her to travel to London sometimes. Permanently. Instead I have the immovable and untouchable object located closer but harder to reach and to park if I did. St Pancras is one of those areas Heironymous Bosch must have drawn upon for inspiration of his visions of hell. People can get used to anywhere but even if I'd lived there all my early life I'd have done all I could to get away. If someone visits Hampstead or Highgate after languishing in Hackney or Camden Town why would they ever want to stay there if they could afford not to? All the people round Stamford Hill moved to Golders Green and beyond as soon as they had the chance, but some people in shit areas choose to stay there. Beats me. But when I want to go out with one of them I am more and more inclined to avoid such areas as it almost feels like I'll catch something.

One day I'll probably be able to afford such a move myself, not to suburbia as I have always been there, but to middle class suburbia. I want to return to Hampstead Garden Suburb but the prices have risen so much I would only get somewhere smaller than this, and just saw a house in Golders Green with 4 bedrooms for a good deal less. It would be like moving to Israel. And the shopping- imagine all that within walking distance? Civilised (though insular) neighbours, and I could ride my bike to Temple Fortune, Central Square and beyond which I certainly can't now. Worth considering, the extra bedroom would be really useful. All fantasy for now but after buying many houses forward planning stops mistakes. If I could bear the pestering I'd spend the winter looking inside all the houses so I knew even though I'm not yet buying but I'd be called all day every day by agents and will just wait till it happens if it does.
I think I've run out...