Bitch on the Blog

March 24, 2015

Chickenfeed – on a drip in seven daily instalments

If I had to liken my life to an art form I’d say I am a sculptor. One who once more has managed to slice her thumb open whilst finally being nailed to the cross of her involuntary own making.

I am faced with a stark choice: Begging, bankruptcy, prison (or, naturally, as discussed recently, prostitution). All of them intense in their own ways. Only one an option I can stomach whilst still blushing.

The damage I can’t service this minute in one fell swoop? £1,285.48. Yes, I know. In the scheme of things it’s nothing. Nothing. But then in some countries they chop your hand off for stealing a loaf of bread. The second time round you are left without either of your tools.

U

Advertisements

11 Comments »

  1. I’m dealing with some financial worries myself, U, so I understand your angst. The amount itself isn’t as much of an issue as the “what next” or the general resentment about having to concern myself with money at all. There are other things I would rather be thinking about–even worrying about. I really don’t like financial “issues” to become a bother to me. When they do, I get a bit cranky, which is how I’ve been feeling lately. 😐

    Comment by Lorna's Voice — March 24, 2015 @ 19:14 | Reply

    • Lorna, I once knew a person of means. His misfortune? He always thought he had no money. Always worried. Neither did he have a clue what it means to have NO money. As in “where is the next loaf of bread coming from?”. Something I experienced on and off during my checkered later childhood. I have no grievance with those who have never gone hungry. I have a grievance over those who always want more. Never satisfied. Who have no concept of what it means to “have NO money”. Who only worry about getting another mortgage – higher than the last one. Whose fridges are full to the brim and still moan and make life a misery by “We haven’t got any money.” And never so much as throw a morsel off their laden table.

      Back to the taxman. The “public” body which has me within an inch of my financial survival is the one unregulated body in this country. By their own admission they can do what they like. There is no “Code of Conduct” as in any other way of business, government.Though a petition to change this has now been filed to Parliament.

      You have a debt to them? Unbeknown to you? They go to a rubber stamp court and slam you with a “liability” order. At £75.00 for every tax year. WHY? I never disputed my liability. Still, it’s what I call the debtor’s prison’s fallacy. Slam on the charges, lock you away. What a no win no win solution, Lorna. No one but no one makes money out of someone in a debtor’s prison (please don’t be alarmed – I am talking metaphorically).

      Anyway, what’s of most interest – human interest – to me who has answered my plight. Some in coin, some in acknowledgment, in sympathy to my plight. And those – the self righteous – who (for once) haven’t uttered a word.

      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — April 5, 2015 @ 12:08 | Reply

      • I know that being wealthy has a way of making people feel relatively impoverished and that poor people are often the most generous lot around. I suppose when you value something other than money, you can see the value in more than just things.

        Comment by Lorna's Voice — April 7, 2015 @ 00:42 | Reply

  2. Yes prostitution is your best choice. You’ll always have your tools (hands) in spite of the thumb accident. Remember here in the U.S. people & houses got buried in mudslides, 20 feet of snow, trains hitting their cars when they couldn’t get off the tracks fast enough, airplane crashes. –I shouldn’t watch the news everyday. But it helps, even tho’ my psychologist daughter (lives in Sweden) says not to get your ups from other people’s downs.

    Comment by bikehikebabe66 — March 24, 2015 @ 20:49 | Reply

    • Actually I do feel badly. Especially for the 379 people at the bottom of the ocean. (I shouldn’t watch the news everyday.)

      Comment by bikehikebabe66 — March 24, 2015 @ 21:14 | Reply

      • Husband says that my touch is bad when I say I feel badly. It’s ==I feel bad.

        Comment by bikehikebabe66 — March 24, 2015 @ 23:08 | Reply

    • When I stub my toe I only feel MY pain (at least in the first thirty seconds), Cynthia, not that of “people getting buried in mudslides”.

      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — April 5, 2015 @ 11:25 | Reply

  3. Whilst awaiting said damage from accountant about the taxes we will likely owe by middle of next month, I am feeling your pain. Ouch!!

    Comment by reneejohnsonwrites — March 28, 2015 @ 15:55 | Reply

    • Yes, Renee. However, what is bewildering to me that – whilst perfectly willing to pay what I owe (though was unaware until recently that I do owe anything) – you will be given a time frame which snowballs from one moment to the next into an avalanche.

      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — April 5, 2015 @ 11:29 | Reply

  4. I hope it gets sorted, I’ve been hit with unexpecteds too, I feel your pain.
    XO
    WWW

    Comment by wisewebwoman — April 2, 2015 @ 13:10 | Reply

    • Thank you, WWW. I will get it sorted.

      My misfortune here is the immediacy, the urgency of the demand. It takes away so much energy and TIME from what I should be doing, ie earning money to keep the very same wolves at bay and satisfied. Instead of which I have to throw all my legal training and eloquence in wordy yet unemotional and to the point letters at entities whose response amounts to no more than an automated one. There is something eerie, almost Kafkaesque or 1984, about it. Try to speak to a REAL person. And if you manage to do bet your bottom Dollar that it will NOT be a decision maker. Minions who – like any good receptionist/secretary/personal assistant – will do their utmost to keep you away from Mr BIG.

      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — April 5, 2015 @ 11:44 | Reply


RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URI

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

%d bloggers like this: