We’re off to 1988 and to one of my favourite Duran Duran songs, All She Wants Is.
This album (Big Thing) didn’t do particularly well for them. To be honest, I wasn’t a massive fan of them anyway. In the late 80s, I was already into metal, punk and industrial. But there is something about this track that still sends shivers up my spine, despite its commercial lack of success.
The song is said to be about a woman who, on the surface, had everything that she could ever ask for, but remained unfulfilled with her lot. I can understand that, perhaps more than people think.
On the face of it, I have a good life.
I live in a pretty big house, in a good area of Greater Manchester; there are two cars on the drive. My partner earns a very good salary. We shop at Ocado. We can afford nice things. But there is always a sadness, at least for me.
We moved into our house 11 years ago (on Halloween – perhaps that’s why this is coming up now?), and we spent an absolute bloody fortune on it at the time. Before we moved in, we spent two frantic weeks decorating as much as we could, which ended up being half the house. The rest is unfinished, still.
We’ve nearly doubled our money on it, which is great, as the idea was that it’s an investment for our future, but it’s also a prison cell for me, albeit a gilded one.
Things changed not long after we moved in.
In 2017, I quit my high-paid tech job and went freelance. The money dried up for a while, at least for me. I then managed to fuck my back even more, and it’s never been right since. I did have a couple of jobs in between then and now that paid well, but that ended this year.
So why is it like a prison?
It’s too big. There are just two of us, and we rattle around. I spend a fair few weeks of the year here alone. Not only is it the loneliness of it, but I am also struggling to manage the house. So the house that was supposed to be providing a settled future now feels like a millstone around my neck.
I work from home too, so every day is a reminder of what we’ve not done. Of course, we could get help; we could get a cleaner and tradespeople to do the work. But financially, I can’t contribute to that anymore. Somehow it doesn’t feel right to my proud Yorkshire ass to let someone else pay for everything.
I have always contributed to everything. Right now I earn less than £12k per year as a director.
The thing about working in the VCFSE sector is that we have all the passion in the world, but because we’re reliant on funding at the moment, the pay isn’t so good. I wouldn’t change it for the world, but it doesn’t help finishing off the house. Especially now when the cost of living is absolutely fucking crazy.
I am not giving up, though.
I am looking at my options to give me what I need. I may not be as physically fit as I used to be, but I can still use my brain.
I have a house full of crap that I bought when I was even more miserable and had money. I can sell that, assuming I can be in the mood to actually list stuff!
I can write; I have a few writing ideas.
I am thinking about finishing a book on my life. I started that a while ago, but didn’t really like the direction it was taking. I feel like it needs to be more autobiographical, rather than the self-help it went towards. Although quite who would want to read about my past, heaven only knows!
I am also considering some fiction, of the more adult variety, under a pseudonym.
I could also do some more freelance work, which is probably less time-consuming than writing, but I also need a creative outlet.
There are always options, but somehow the heaviness is still there. Maybe one day I’ll dig into more of it, but for now, I just need to get some cash in the bank. I want to be able to at least make this house comfortable for me.
Then perhaps I can scratch the itch which lies beneath the surface? Perhaps next time I explore what my heart says now…
Hey spend your money on the corner now
Ya know you’ve gotta save some
For the shoeshine boy
You’ve been pulling them by the hand inside
Oh, collecting all your toys
If you need a lead to heaven now
Just stick around
You’re gonna be there
What do you care?
What do you dare?
What does your Heart say now?
