About that limbo...

When on Wednesday night I finally put the biography of Coco Chanel in a self satisfied manner, muttering: another one bites the dust, I did not expect what would come the next day. Instead I expected to be a better human being, more aware of fashion, style, life in general, culture. You name it, I had it all in my little head, how after continuous effort for the past ten months of converting my wardrobe into black&white couture, I will now be able to do it in seconds and gracefully.
For a moment I did not feel like a misfit, if just a little bit fat.

After all Thursday was my one and only day off this week. I looked forward to it. I pictured myself sleeping in, reading in bed, taking a long bath, going for a walk, in other words doing all those things I never have time for.

What I did not suspect was a phone call from my part-timer (I do not actually own her but she is my only staff) telling me that she just was informed that our employer has gone into administration. To make a very long story short:

• I feel awfully guilty for having a day off, as the manager, I should have been the one to take the news first and then pass the suffering on. Not that I enjoy it. It was awfully unfair for somebody who works two days a week to try and chew this bite.
• I do not know how to deal with this fact.
• I am afraid that the company will go bust and I will be unemployed, homeless, hungry.
• I could not read another book or write another line until today, for I was lost in an evil cloud of darkness.
• I feel guilty for using so many I's and the fact that I mentioned all of the above when there are children going without food, clean water and proper care (and no matter how I try the monthly donation to NSPCC just does not make me feel better).

My wages have been postponed until further notice. I will be working until the 7th of July non-stop. I feel miserable and sick of the fact that everyone is asking me if I am ok. I know, they are trying to be nice, then they say it is going to be ok, that is just plain bullshit. I do not know if it is going to be ok and neither do they. Living of benefits is not ok in my planet, it is outright unbearable, ok is doing a minimum wage job and not having a day off.

Today I read Lynne Truss's Eats, Shoots and Leaves. It made me laugh and think of Mr. Moon's than instead of then or then instead of than. I always, annoyingly, pick him up on that. It also made me think of Mr. Fire and how he could not spell, use punctuation or in fact the written English language to save his life, and used me his foreign wife to check his spelling, grammar and punctuation.

It made me laugh and forget. I laughed because even though I am not one of Truss's vigilantes, I am human, I love English language and I love to laugh. I am certain there are plenty of mistakes and typos (I often write my posts on my mobile phone and can not 'do' a spell check as well as can't be bothered to correct later, even though I do!) I have the excuse of being foreign and using the lovely phrase: "English is my second language" which I hate.

This made me wonder what does it take to make the 'second' language 'first'? Is it when you think, dream, wonder in that language or is it something deeper like talking to yourself? Which then leads to another question: if you are talking to yourself in your 'second' language are you madly pretending it is your 'first'? And then what makes a language 'first' or 'second' to you? The purpose, the function, or the environment?

I might be unemployed and homeless in a week's time but at least I can laugh. Does that make me English?