I longed to be out, smelling of perfume, and dressed in high heels with my long hair flowing in the dusk of an evening gazing into the eyes of a lover over an intimate candlelit dinner followed by a walk on the beach. Oh what a fabulous imagination I had when the mundane set in. I took myself off to all kinds of places in my head.
If push came to shove, would I spend time with a lonely reminiscing woman who was in her last stages of life, listening to her tiresome and repetitive stories or would I jump in my car, and speed away to meet my lover who insisted on seeing me on a dark moonlit evening. My conscience already had the answer. Of course I would stay and listen to such ramblings. Here I was I after coming back from Melbourne where my mother and I were homeless and living in our little old car where we had ended up renting a condemned house, no money in the bank it was hand to mouth while doing a job I hated to the core and no support.