I’m not a fucking cash machine

So I was rudely awoken this morning by a text message. It was from my mother. Wanting money. Along the lines of ‘I’m really worried. Please can you transfer seven pounds into my account urgently today. Life insurance premium. Will ring with bank details.’. Followed half hour later with, ‘It goes from bank tomorrow. Can you give me cash then I will pay in today’. Ten minutes later, ‘They may cancel my policy’. I took Sasha to the vet as planned and got her kennel cough injection thing. Completely ignored mother. Sorry. But I actually found those text messages quite offensive and threatening. It was almost blackmail. Sorry love you know fuck all about me, you have zero bargaining power. Maybe if you paid a bit more attention when I was a kid you’d have plenty to play with. I ignored her completely. She texted again an hour later to say she’s sorted it. Which probably means that she’s sold half a house she doesn’t own to her neighbour or pawned her rings. Mind you if she did sell some of the shit she’s sat on then I’d have to pay less to get sort of it when she’s dead. The problem is we’ve attempted to settle all her finances in the past and she has refused. She may be my mother but I’m afraid the next time I want to see her, it will be isolated by some very cheap chipboard. I need to cook food.

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