Well this is my first post, I am quite excited. I have decided to blog in an attempt to keep my sanity and try and get a little perspective. And if anyone else enjoys it/sympathises/understands…Great.
So… have spent all evening staring at the dog, who has just been castrated. The collar that I paid £12 for (because it was not a lampshade, but like a inflatable ring..’more comfy’) seems to be pretty ineffective as he appears to be able to lick his balls (or where they used to be) anyway. Fear I may wake up and he will have bled to death.
Before the kids went to bed, I had to change the sheets on the bunk beds. I only did it yesterday, but a wee incident in the night meant I had to go through the whole process again. And my god, what a process. I wish I could just put the sheets on and not obsess about them – but I cant. I feel like I am beaten if I cant get the sheet on the top bunk properly under the mattress. And not just one sheet, but the waterproof plastic thing as well. I found myself lying on the bottom bunk, pushing the mattress up with my feet and then trying to grab the few centimetres of fabric that were peering over the edge of the mattress so I could pull it down properly. I cant believe this is normal behaviour. As if anyone even cares.
I am knackered and have a horrible day ahead in work tomorrow. I should just go to bed. The Cyclist (aka my husband, he is having a mid-life crisis which has manifested itself in a cycling obsession) is cross with me for not going to bed early. But I have recorded The Real Housewives of Cheshire and I just love it. Love it. Hilarious. Magaaaaaaaaaaaaaallllllle. Love Leanne. Even though I don’t understand why she cant get her roots done properly.
Finally going to bed. Dog still alive. Packed my bag for work, packed the kids bags, found all the post hidden under a book bag. A plumbing and draining offer from United Utilities, some blurb from Barclaycard and Aha!!! Oh yes – an offer to purchase 12 issues of Tatler for £12!!!! Bargain. Love Tatler. I don’t know why, I am not Posh, I did not go to Boarding School and the headpiece I wore at my wedding was not a family heirloom. Nevertheless, it is a guilty pleasure and I can mourn all the lovely make up/skin cream/facial scrub I never get time to buy and dream about Anya Hindmarch Totes and Boodles cocktail rings.