MiSC: Fucked Up Plans/No Holidays

For breakfast, lunch, dinner: shit sandwich.

Since the ‘year of Covid’, now just over three years ago – lockdown kicked in, March 23, 2020 – Teresa and I have not had much in the way of holiday.

The only real break we’ve had – and by break or holiday I’m talking specifically about time away from home – was a short family trip (four or five nights?) to Wales, in October, 2022. The only reason that one actually happened, as opposed to all our cancelled plans, was that Simon and Claire paid for it. We just had to get there.

Every single break – mostly just one or two nights away – that we’ve attempted to take (and there have been precious few, four or five attempts, perhaps?) has had to be cancelled. Except for one or two occasions – like now – when lack of transportation added to our problems, this has been solely due to lack of funds.

The latest in this small but frustrating string of disappointments is a night away this Monday coming, for Teresa’s cousins’ wedding. On this occasion the chief reason is no wheels (my car is in for repairs; and we’re getting it back later than anticipated).

To add insult to injury, we usually lose a bit of money when cancelling our AirB&B reservations. Plus we have to beg the host not to blacklist us as bad AirB&B folk!

We can’t afford car hire or public transport. I’ve asked family and friends (the latter via Facebook) if anyone has a vehicle we could borrow. No dice.

A Broon tsunami continues to inundate us.

Life can be proper shit sometimes!

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