by Today turned to shit pretty much as soon as I got up, when I saw I had a Zoom meeting request for 10am about agreement to sell the apartment block in Wellington. I attended the meeting – four members of the body corporate committee and me – and they pretty much put a gun to my head, even threating court proceedings if I refuse to sell. The most maddening thing of all is still their blind acceptance of our fate. Everything’s shit, but so be it. I’m beginning to wonder whether selling might be the best option psychologically. Get the whole damn thing over with and start again. They gave me ten days to sign (or not sign, in which case they still want to go ahead with the sale anyway, without the half-dozen or so like me who haven’t yet signed). Oh shit.
In between my two lessons with near-teenage boys, I got a call from a woman who wanted me to join some teaching platform. She was basically trying to sell me shit. She wanted to arrange a discussion. I called her back, we had a discussion of sorts, but in those situations I get stressed and my Romanian quickly turns to shit.
During my second lesson my aunt called. She was calling me about some photos I’d taken in 2008 that I emailed her on Monday. They included four female generations of the family: my grandmother, her, my cousin and her (then) three-year-old daughter. My brother was also there, as was my aunt’s dog who died recently. I described to her the situation with my apartment which she was unaware of. In her words she said it was pretty shit. She was amazed I would fail to even get my initial investment back. If only!
I’ve been reading about nursing homes in Oxfordshire – an expensive home that cost a whopping £1500 a week, where coronavirus has been kept under control, and others where just reading about it is heartbreaking. Shit doesn’t even come close.
