I'm feeling right Pollyanna-y! Lots of good things and only one bad thing.

Good Things.

• Dad's selling the cab - Ok, he's only gonna get 2k for it, instead of the 14k that he paid, and its not really a good thing, but we need the money.
• I qualify for Carer's allowance while I'm job-seeking, So although I'm not gonna get to keep the money, it's all good.
• A blue handicapped badge and disabilty benefit is coming our way!
• I am roughly £219 away from clearing the overdraft - and! My ISA which IS NOT TO BE TOUCHED AS ITS ALL PART OF THE MASTER PLAN!!! Has had about two hundred pounds worth of interest since the last time I looked, so technically I will only be taking three hundred pound out of the ISA as a season ticket is an Essential and therefore allowances will be made for that, and nothing else.
• A loft will soon, possibly be making an appearance in our house.

("A loft" people say? When Dad's kicking the bucket, more noticeably every day now?? But see, Dad's been saving and living for this since the summer, when we found out, it gave him a reason to work and go out and not sink into some sorta depression.)

See how posh this will make us? We'll have one of those en-suite bathroom thingys like in hotels and even a "study/libary" for my tonnes and tonnes of books (I'm inable to throw even the most battered childhood book away and I read TONNES.)

Yup, I'm in a very Pollyanna-ery kinda mood, finding good in all the shit, which, let's face it can't be a bad thing can it?

Oh - the bad thing that I can't be chirpy about?

Dad weighs now about 8 and a half stone, possibly about half a stone of that is all tumour, so he weighs about the same as me, his ideal weight should be about 10 stone. When it was scary and he was very ill he was seven and a half stone, its getting now, that he's ribs and spine and shoulderbone come through his skin, not yet "Concentration camp thin" like before, but we're getting there.