Today’s my first monday since the Glorious Holidays where the Redlets are all at school, and I’m not working. I started working full-time hours crammed into 4 days, earlier in the year. The plan was to use this spare day to get on top of house-shit, exercise, and have the odd appointment at the doctors/dentist/waxing torture-chamber of horrors etc etc.
In practice, what this has meant is that I had an excuse to get roaringly shitfaced on a Sunday, probably starting mid-afternoon (because one must have wine with Sunday dinner, yah?) and ending up with me shuffling round to school the next day like a puffy-faced zombie, trying not to throw up on fellow parents, praying the teacher wouldn’t chat to me (fumes! argh!) and then shambling back home to flap around the house like a demented chicken, mostly panicking about getting f*ck-all done, whilst simultaneously managing to feel stressed and busy. And nauseous.
I’m going to write part 2 of this post tonight, when I can give a full review of the sober version of this. It’s already going well, I’m on the sofa with this guy
drinking coffee and feeling like I’m not going to hurl. Go me!