Lucky, lucky

Spending a few hours sat in the main public facing council building in the city has made me realise how lucky I am.

I don’t have to worry about how I will eat each week, or how I’ll heat my house in the winter. I don’t have to be terrified of something breaking in the house, or an unexpected bill arriving.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not really rich and don’t get paid loads – but I’m what is probably best described as comfortable.

I have a job, and I’ve never been out of work, but I’d say that through a succession of lucky circumstances I don’t have a daily worry about money. That’s not to say that I don’t worry about money, I do, but I’ve got some in reserve if necessary so that is reassuring.

I’m lucky that my family worked, that no real disasters befell them during either of the wars, that my parents worked hard and earned enough for me to get a reasonable education (despite my numerous attempts to sabotage that!).

Sitting here I’m seeing people who are obviously on the poverty line, they live in council accommodation and even then have difficulty paying the rent. Or they don’t live anywhere, they are here to ask for someone to help them with a bed for tonight, or to dispute benefits (or claim them).

There are some people who have so far been sat on the sofas next to me for at least 3 hours, and I have no doubt that they will be here for the whole day – they have nowhere else to go and nothing to do – at least in here it is warm.

Some of the decisions I’ve made in my life mean that I’m where I am today, but many of the things that have lead me here have been totally outside of my control – luck.