The week before 67 hours.
The week before 55 hours.
The week before 55 hours.
Well that’s what I claimed on my zero hours contract but it was actually more but I like to try and keep things on an even keel.
I am also averaging 14-16 hours commuting a week.
All of this to keep my job and the family afloat after the crap we’ve been left in.
It’s been extremely hard going bearing mind I’m 53, my job requires irregular hours and standing on my feet all day and sometimes commuting late at night.
I am pretty much exhausted. But I think the hardest thing I’ve endured in the last month is when, for the second time, my husband forgot one of our sons’s birthday. I don’t have my husband’s telephone number as he’s changed it and I am not asking anyone for it as I think after 32 years he should stop being asshole and give it to me himself. So I texted his sister who must have told him (she didn’t answer and had forgotten our son’s birthday as well) but two days later he transferred him some cash.
Too late. Damage done. I don’t have to say anything to my boys. They are old enough to work it out for themselves now. And what must they think when they get sent a large sum of money and I am flogging myself to death to feed them on a monthly basis while my husband takes no responsibility for his actions which changed our lives.
I am knackered. Stressed. Exhausted. Emotional. Let my story be a lesson to all women out there. Don’t give up work. Don’t share a bank account. Dont be a slave to your husband’s whims and stupidity.
Thank god my parents are not alive to witness my situation. It would break their hearts.
