This is a merge of my 'Wanderer' blog that tells of two years of my three years on the streets, and a new blog that tells of my life after the Diocese of Winchester ripped through my life for for the last few years on top of the previous serious harm that left me homeless
This is a day to day blog of my life as I continue to survive, work on recovery and on the social problems that I have and try to come to terms with limitless traumas I have survived along the way.
This blog is in tandem with my blog about my experiences in the Church of England

The former name of this blog and the name of it's sister blog are to do with my sense of humour, which I hope to keep to the end, which appears to be ever more rapidly approaching. At least I laughed, and I laughed at the people who were destroying me. Don't forget that.

Here are my books, which I wrote for you if you would like to know more:

Tuesday, 13 January 2015

Tuesday evening

Good evening.

Well peeps.
This afternoon I walked into town, once the sleet had stopped. The wind was cold but I needed fresh air.
I went into the bike shop and told them about the blue bike and they said it would cost anything from a few pounds to 10 or 12 pounds and I should bring it in on Thursday for a quote.

Then I walked down to my very first work shift in the charity shop, and I was nervous.
When I got there there was a fight going on outside, nothing to do with the shop but the manager was watching in amusement.
The manager's wife was at home sick, which was why she hadn't phoned me to confirm I would be there and so it was just me and the manager.
He is a very nice safe man, very easy to talk to, reminds me a lot of someone but I can't for the life of me remember who.
He gave me till training, and all of a sudden it all came back to me! Of course! I used to mind the Newsagents shop at the weekend when I was a student in Hampshire! I used to be left alone to sit drinking tea in the quiet shop and take the money from the people who came in for their papers, so I know how to use a till!
Peeps, it has never been on my CV or in my mind, until today. I simply remembered.

So I was on the till, serving customers, and chatting to the manager, he is a keen blogger and writer and so we found we had a lot in common and we were chatting away, and one of the other volunteers dropped by for a visit and I had met her before, so that was fine.

The manager told me about a volunteer they had once had, a retired gent, who they had thought was a decent guy, but it turned out he had been taking money and also taking goods from the shop and in the end he got caught and he only admitted to hundreds of pounds but they think it was much more. This story shocked me.
But despite that story, within an hour or so, I was left in sole charge of the shop while the manager popped out to run errands and do shopping.
He was telling his wife on the phone that I can use the till and I used to run a newsagents, which isn't quite correct, the managers of the newsagents used to leave me to mind the place on the weekend when it was quiet, that was when I was a student and as well as delivering papers for the shop, minding the shop earned me my daily bread, literally. But the thing is, the managers of the charity shop used to also run newsagents, so it is funny, there was plenty to talk about, we talked about how if the suppliers were late with the papers, the kids had to go to school and the rounds got messed up, and things like that.

So anyway, I quickly learned basic prices and the till, there is always so much to learn but I was pleased I was picking it up quickly. I was a bit anxious every time the manager left me alone to mind the shop, but it is good for my CV and confidence.
On Monday Afternoon I have to go in for extra training, after going to my horsys on Monday morning, and then I will go back and work on Tuesday again and they will step my hours up if we decide that will work.

I walked home through the bitter cold wind and sleet, and I was going to put chops on for tea but a huge pot of pasta was sitting on the table with a note on it saying 'Help yourselves' so I did as it asked and put a note saying 'compliments to the chef' on it.

Coming home from work is a good feeling, one that is noticably missing when you don't work.

Tomorrow I am due to go to a friend's house for art and lunch, she simply will not believe that I am not an artist. Haha, I am not but I like playing with art materials.
Then I have a meeting in the afternoon.

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