Never let yourself be tied to the tracks

Disclaimer: This probably won’t make you laugh.

Yesterday I found out we have our own place to stay.
I’d never thought I’d be so overjoyed with the simple fact of having a place to call my own.

I moved to Cape Town about nine months ago.
In nine months we have moved about twelve times.
‘Why on earth would anyone do that?’ – you may exclaim.
Well, without getting into too much detail – my mother was the victim of rather well planned identity fraud for the last three/four months.
So well planned, she was listed as deceased.
You can’t apply for a home/flat/place to stay – if you’re dead. Hence trying to find a stable spot was hard enough without the added BS of Cape Town’s “problem” with POC (not going to get into that right now bc I don’t have the energy for it)
I have moved more times in the last year than in the last decade of my life. Lovely.
Now it sounds pretty privileged to be complaining about a place to stay – but in all honesty having a roof over your head is a basic need (one I know to be true)

I have lived in hotel rooms, bed & breakfasts and anything else but an actual home. Sounds exciting, yes?
Well, not when you can’t create and carve out a space for yourself. For you. Where you can hang up pictures and make memories. Sounds pretty silly – until you don’t have it anymore.

In light of all this moving and other bullshit – I have organised a donation drive for St Anne’s Home because my mom and I are very lucky to have stable jobs to afford hotel rooms. If we didn’t have the means, I would be in a shelter or moving all the way back to PE.

Needless to say, I’m pretty excited to gather some of my friends (from the internet and IRL) to come and do something good for the start of 2015.

And yes, this is a serious-ish life post.
The lols will be back next week.

how I felt saying goodbye to 2014.


A

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