Today my daughter went back to her Childminder and I went back under whatever it is I am under…
Monkeyface had a nice lie in until 730 (lucky her) followed by a hellish rush to make it to drop her off and board the 8.22 train. At the time I felt a failure, on account of being late, not having read with MF and being unreasonably moody with that 4th emergency service, my mother. But on recounting it later, the recountee said “my god, that’s amazing!”
Oh. Was it??? Impossible standards, you see.
The day carried on the theme of trying to achieve the impossible with underwhelming results. I got home at 8pm and had just a few distracted chats with MF before she went to bed miserable and crying for Monkey – he’d been forgotten and left at her childminder’s home. Again, no reading. A few cuddles. Not satisfactory at all. .
The mania required to push through has subsided, there’s adrenaline coursing through my body.I finished working at 1.15 and had a Brandy as I was feeling cold and miserable. And wired. still am. Insomnia bites
But tomorrow is another day and all of my work related tasks are done for now.
It’s also my amazing mother’s 65th birthday and plan to collect the Monkeyface a little earlier to celebrate now our Claridges high tea has been scuppered.
I actually remember her 30th birthdays and her feeling old. My mum will never be old, whatever age age is. Tonight I came home and she had been shopping, cooked dinner and done my ironing. I should be doing all of this for her.
I’m locking the doors on Saturday. There is no way I am allowing her to leave.
Tomorrow there will be cake and reading. Night night