In 2 months I would be out in the big wide world...
In 2 months I would begin my journey to my fabularse life...cos, yes...I was going to have a fabularse life!
At the age of 16 I would think to myself ...
"When I'm older, I'll be married to someone who is very successful, we'll have a beautiful house in Crosby, near to the beach. My perfect husband and I will wake every morning, in our brilliant white bedroom, with white walls, carpets, bedding and curtains. We will wake to the sound of our 2 beautiful children running around the house. We would hold hands as we walked down the stairs to the kitchen, where I would make breakfast (which would all be healthy) and then once breakfast was done, the nanny would arrive and my husband and I would go for a bike ride on the beach...He will love me so much as I will be beautiful and elegant...cos I will be a WOMAN. Will will have a wonderful social life that will revolve around amazing restaurants, dinner parties at home, wine bars and cocktails, his work colleagues and their wives would want to be in our company as we would be fun, amusing...everyone will love us cos we are perfect! We will holiday in exotic locations, we'll go on safari, we will take cruises, we will lie on a beaches that stretch for miles and we will be the only couple on it because we are perfect......."
How deluded was I?
I've sat and watched all my friends find wonderful men, have beautiful children, who live in picture perfect houses and go on dream holidays.
In reality for me, now that I've grown up is.....I wake every morning, look up at the damp patch on the ceiling and think 'Is that growing? I hope not cos I'm skint and can't afford to get the roof repaired'.and then look at the wall in front of me and make (yet another) promise that I will put wallpaper up, even just to cover all the friggin cracks. I drag my sorry arse downstairs to the kitchen and look at the empty wine glasses and dump them in the sink, on top of all yesterdays dishes. I'll skip breakfast and opt for 4 fags and 6 cups of tea instead. I'll stumble across clothes on the floor and pick something to wear, it'll always be something that doesn't need ironing.
I'll sit on the stairs and wait for my brother to pick me up, cos I haven't even bothered to learn to drive. I'll get into work wishing that I was anywhere but there. I'll plan my shopping list, constantly promising myself that I'll avoid the booze aisle, I'll finish work, go the supermarket and head straight for the booze aisle. I'll go home, eat a full family sized trifle, open a bottle of wine, plonk myself at the kitchen table, log into Facebook, mumble about everyone's comments and slag them off to myself, I'll look at their photographs of their new cars, their new kitchens, the new house they've just moved into, their holiday pics and silently wish that their Facebook page, their beautiful kitchen, their life was mine.....
But, it couldn't be mine cos I chose FUCKING RETAIL!!!