Hey Ragers and Ragettes!!
It's a frosty morning. I am getting sick of this. I'm wearing my fleecy, furlined sweater with my velour jammies. Yes I am still in my jammies. it's Sunday. I'm 36 years old and I seriously don't give a shit. Sadly, the pervert is blasting his shitty old man music again. i seriousy want to kick him in the balls. He makes me angry.
Well, I viewed some rooms and I chose one. The little bedsit because the mansion was very clinical. The guy showing me around was nice and one of the housemates accompanied him like a little puppy. It felt like if this housemate slipped up or didn't stop smiling, the landlord was going to chop his hands off. Creepy. Plus the stairs didn't have a banister and it was open so there were no walls on either sides of those stairs. The room was nice but I didn't get a good feeling.
The bedsit was in a warm house, unlike this one. It was on the bottom floor. There is a toilet and sink.
The decor? It's hideous. Like really hideous. The landlady? I wouldn't get molested or perved over. It's safe and warm. No street parking. I could park my car on a driveway. It seems nice.
I put my deposit through. And I thought everything was boxed off until yesterday.
I get my nails done at a gorgeous salon in Cheshire. It is owned by my manager's sister. Footballer's wives go there. The Housewives of Cheshire go there. It's a lovely place with silver glitter walls and lovely, chic furnishings.
My manager's sister is lovely. She looks exactly like my manager. They could be twins!! Both are sweet, ridiculously pretty, rich and easy to talk to.
The manager's mother is the cleaner and one day I was discussing with her about my issues with living with the pervert.
Anyway yesterday, I went into the salon to get my weekly re balance of my talons and my manager's sister said, Betty I heard that you are looking for a new place to live?
I said, I was, I found a new room to rent.
She smiled and said, well my husband and own a flat and we are looking for a new tenant. I raised my eyebrows. She told me the monthly cost. It was roughly the same as what I am paying while living with the pervert. It's a 2 bedroom penthouse apartment. It is part furnished (all I would need to buy is a sofa and a bed). It comes with a washing machine and a tumble dryer. It's in a lovely little village in a posh area. She wouldn't want a deposit. Or references.
Now, I am in 2 minds about this.
The houseshare is safe. It's easy and warm.
This is my own space. My own little place. No nosy housemates asking what I am doing, where I am going. I hope to view it this week.
It's funny what life throws at you. It really is.
Because this has now thrown up something that I don't want to face but I have to.
I have to speak to Simon about the house. I am going to have to grow the balls to get my name off the house. But I am going to take legal advice first. If I can get some money from the house, make him buy me out, that would be ideal. I don't know what I am entitled to.
That part is the easy part. It took me almost a year to break up with Simon. The reason why I am treading carefully and I am a bit reluctant to do this is because we are getting along so well. Even better than when we were together.
And if Simon feels he has been wronged, he can become really vindictive and nasty. But this needs to happen.
The other part is closing the door. I have been going down to see him every weekend (for the guinea pigs) and this is the part that I am struggling with.
It's a routine. I am used to doing this. The hardest part is letting go. I need to let go.
This year has a lot of promise and a lot of wonderful things that can and will happen. I need to cut the ties and let go because that is the only way I can move forward.
I don't want to never hear from him again. I want to still talk to him but I want to start to have a life.
So on Thursday night (I have Friday off, I am changing my hair!!) I am going to have to talk to him, present him my findings (I have taken some legal advice previously but I want a final opinion) and I want to get my name off the house and be set free finally.
It's getting the strength to let go. A wise person once said, freedom comes when you learn to let go. So this week, that is what I am going to do.
Until next time, Ragers and Ragettes. Keep your head and standards high and your heels even higher.
Lots of love,
The Fabulous Betty Rage xxx
