Sleeping On The Sofa?

6am and still wearing yesterday’s clothes.

That just has to be pretty sad doesn’t it?

I wasn’t even out this weekend and only had one drink watching TV with my dad on Saturday night ..

Does not having alcohol as an excuse make it better or worse?

It’s become a bit of a long term habit I’m afraid.

When Alison and I split up, I moved into a shitty rented flat in sunny govan.

The idea was to get back in touch with my roots … But if was a stupid idea.

The CCTV on the walls should have been a giveaway.

The first night there my car was keyed, the second there was a running battle in the street.

The flat itself was freezing cold with no central heating and only a gas fire in the living room.

After work, I used to go back to the matrimonial house in Newton Mearns, make sure the kids were fed and help them with their homework.

When they went to bed or disappeared to their rooms, I went back to the flat.

At that time although we were split up, I really hoped she would change or get help. I guess it was a protest as I couldn’t stay with someone who was so selfish and irresponsible.

Alcohol does that, it kills the person you love and changes them to be someone else.

For years I’d hoped for change but it didn’t happen.

Back at the flat I’d turn on the TV and the gas fire, pull a quilt round me and sleep on the sofa.

I used to wake up with sore heads and feeling breathless. With hindsightI I think I almost died from carbon monoxide poisoning.

I hated that flat, but it was all I could afford as I was still paying the mortgage on the NM house as Alison didn’t / doesn’t work.

But it was a learning experience and a step along the way.

Truth is, you can’t really go back to your roots, I’d changed so much without realising and moved on from my early days and govan had changed for the worse.

Education both formal and in the school of life does that.

But the sofa habit has stayed!

I moved in here to this large detached property and live in quite a luxurious place, I’ve knocked down walls and made it my own.

My shiny black piano takes pride of place in the lounge.

It’s a far cry from my early days of poverty and mum dad and five brothers living in a one bedroom place with an outside loo where during winter the frost was on the inside of the windows.

No sympathy required, everyone I knew lived like that, I’m sure there was people worse off than us.

I know there was,

One thing about modern living is that it might not be perfect but things are much better than they were.

Poverty isn’t what it used to be!

It’s now deemed as relative rather than absolute. A comparison with the average family rather than not having food on your table.

But still to our national shame food banks are on the increase.

Right now, I’m on the purple sofa looking out through the glass doors at the woodland behind the house. The wind is strong and the trees are bending this way and that.

My girls are upstairs sleeping, Laura should be getting up soon as she’s on a 12 hour shift at the hospital today.

I’ve no idea why I sleep on the sofa most nights, I watch TV until I fall asleep. Even although I have a large tv in my bedroom.

Maybe it’s because there is some fear about the house being exposed and open that if someone came in they’d need to get past me first to get anywhere near the girls.

It has to be said, that I can be a bit of a Rottweiler, the govan boy is still there when he needs to be.

But I don’t really think that’s the reason.

I think somewhere inside its a protest, that sleeping in bed is for relationships?

I don’t know.

Or maybe I’m just a lazy sad fucker that should get his arse up the stairs instead of lying on the couch comatose?

Yeah that’s probably it!

Sad but true.

Time to make tea.

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