The ‘wifey’ has suffered over the last 2 years following a complete mental breakdown from ‘pressure of work’ as a Senior Micro-Biologist.
It’s been a tough couple of years all around but we’ve made it through and now she has her pension – which is considerably more than many people earn through working.
We have neighbours who are managing to pay their mortgages most of the time but occasionally worry that their homes will be repossessed as they are sometimes late with the payments.
We have friends who are sometimes days away from becoming homeless as one of them is made redundant and their former employer is bankrupt so the likelihood of any redundancy money is slim at best.
According to the latest news in Britain our economy is slowly recovering after the debacle of 10 years of a Labour Government – thanks Tony Blair and co. Good job eh?
We, in Britain, are currently being governed by ‘posh boy’ Cameron and ‘demented’ Little Cleggy yet the economy seems to be improving slowly.
Most importantly, the wife’s pension is kicking in this month, my ‘Driving Instructor’ diary is full and we can afford to pay for our daughter’s ‘Master’s Degree’ expenses.
Basically, WE are alright – so sod you lot.
What a caring world we’re are living in eh?
Live in a tent. We’re about to live the ‘Life Of Riley’
We’ve earned it – maybe you have too and something went wrong somewhere through no fault of your own. Still, we are heading for ‘The Life Of Riley’ and, sadly you aren’t.
I could help you but I won’t. I won’t lose ‘The Life Of Riley’ for you pal. Sorry. We got lucky and you didn’t. You’ll lose your home and your kids will be on the streets as I snooze in my nice warm bed and feed my cats expensive treats and pay for my daughter to travel to New York for a romantic break with her boyfriend and I won’t feel guilty as I look out from the bedroom window of my nice centrally heated house at you in your tent because you weren’t as lucky as me.
You know just what I WILL do pal? You really want to know??
I’ll get out of bed, open my door and say “Come in here mate, bring the kids – sorry babe, I can’t pay for New York much as I love you and you’re my baby. These guys aren’t as lucky as us so we’re going to help. Sorry about New York but that’s the way it is”
I will always be many things but, on pain of death, I will always care.
I’m a lucky bastard and, despite her suffering, ultimately so is the wifey.
If you happen to be a lucky bastard share a bit of your luck around eh?
It keeps you feeling human – the ‘good bit’ of feeling human.
And never forget. ‘They’ could have been ‘you’ if you hadn’t happened to be a lucky bastard eh?
Let’s be careful out there eh?