like a tart’s knickers

My moods are swinging like a seventies suburban dinner party. Avocado prawns, anyone? I had a lovely calm 24 hours, stared into a fire, gazed at the moon, laughed until it hurt, spent a lovely hour or two reading in a quiet house. I got back home and industriously washed, dried and waterproofed everything in sight. I was even beginning to get used to the absence of children. I packed, printed timetables and directions. All good. I was virtually bouncing off the walls with going-adventuring-excitement.

And then I wasted an hour having a(nother) hideous conversation, and honestly, all that optimism? It’s just vanished. I’m never going to escape this. I don’t have the willpower. I can’t put the boot in. I’m stuck. Trapped. And I hate it.



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2 responses to “like a tart’s knickers

  1. dawn

    You will escape this – it is horribly hard to remain positive and forward thinking, but you can do it and you will be hapier for doing so.

    when do you actually go away? sorry I’ve totally lost track.

  2. Heather

    Many hugs because as always I have no words.

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