The Waiting Game

Hello, dear readers,

Yes, once again, after Tina’s fray into matters of a criminal nature, it’s little old me (mark) in the driving seat.

You lucky, lucky people.

But what of today’s subject matter I hear you cry (if I strain my hearing and stretch my credulity just a tad). Well that boils down to matters financial.

Brown Envelopes
It was the week before Xmas that two letters came through the mailbox. The first was addressed to Tina, the second to myself but in a wonderful display of governmental efficiency they both said exactly the same thing.

We were being moved from our current ESA (that’s Employment And Support Allowance)and associated benefits to Universal Credit.

This is something that we knew was coming at some point. A factor of certain benefits being phased out and replaced by others that do pretty much the same thing under a different banner. It’s a rebrand, a way to tighten up the ship and bring various, disparate elements under one broad banner.

It also scares the death out of me.

The Retiring Type
You see I, personally, am medically retired. Having contracted Multiple Sclerosis to sit atop the Spina Bifida I’ve had since birth, a wonderful malady that affects my concentration and energy levels among other things, I am deemed unfit for employment.

My chosen(ish) profession of Financial Services called, of course for a great deal of diligence, exactitude, and the adherence to policies, laws, and procedures. It was also a field that carried a large degree of responsibility, it being people’s money I was dealing with. One misplaced decimal point could make a colossal difference!

So, a lack of concentration was less than ideal.

Add in the daily commute and my tendency to have a sudden and dramatic episode of near total fatigue and as I look back, the decision to pack it all in was one of the best I’ve ever made.

But, of course, now everything could be different.

Voices & Choices
You see, although there are those who tend to make light of my less than productive existence, and the fact I get paid for sitting on my derrière all day (you know who you are) I am, sadly, pretty much reliant on the kindness of the state. It’s what puts food on the table and heat in the radiators. It’s what keeps a roof over our heads.

And so, as we face the biggest change to those circumstances since DLA (Disabled Living Allowance) became PIP (Personal Independence Payments), and as I wait (im)patiently for the phone appointment scheduled for Monday, you can probably understand the nerves.

I’m reasonably sure things will be okay. I’m reasonably sure this will be just another formality. There’s still that voice though, that small, insidious nagging voice of doubt and stress. The one that tells me it won’t be okay. The one that says just as the mortgage comes up for renegotiation, I’ll be left with a choice of poverty or ill health.

Marking Time
Still there’s nothing I can do right now. As I say the phone call is Monday, no matter how much I wish it were tomorrow. It leaves me with a choice. Either sit and stew in my own escalating anxiety and growing MS fatigue, or to take the Stoic path and put the whole thing away until I have the ability and influence to do something about it. After all, there’s another boot to drop, one that won’t drop for five more days, and until that happens I am pretty much powerless.

Waiting, as it famously notes in the novel Stranger In A Strange Land… is.

Wish me luck!








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Hey, there! If you enjoyed reading any of the above, why not take a look at some of my published work? Below you’ll find links to a number of short stories I’m lucky enough to have included in anthologies. I’d love to know what you think.





New Tales Of Old





Death Ship





Pestilence: Drabbles 1





Reaperman: Drabbles 3





The Musketeers Vs Cthulhu





Eldritch Investigations