Yes, I've decided after clearing up my 3 years old puddle of wee on the dinning room floor that my day can not possibly get any worse. It's only just gone 11 o'clock and already I can't wait for Thursday to end and Friday to begin.
I'll start at the very beginning, which was around 7pm last night when I slipped on the wet bathroom floor, managed to land non to elegantly in the middle of the hallway. I have hurt my leg, my back and nearly managed to rip off my big toe. Not a pretty sight. Sat and had a little cry and then laughed hysterically at myself. What a bloody idiot.
Moving on, I opted for an early night with my book, which I am unable to put down at the minute. After 2 hours of reading and not feeling at all sleepy. I decided that I needed to turn off the light, just close my eyes and get some sleep. Three hours later I was still closing my eyes and praying I would fall asleep.
Why do stupid random thoughts that are totally insignificant suddenly seem like a big deal at 2 am in the morning? It is beyond me. The last clock check was 3.35am at which point I must have drifted off. Only to be woken at 4.02am be my little boy getting in my bed. Nightmares!. For the first time ever I just lifted him in my bed and went back to sleep. 5.30 am my little girl comes through. " Can I get in your bed, mummy?" "Just get in" I groaned. Within 5 minutes the pair of them were fighting over me in the bed . "For gods sake just let me get some sleep" I shouted.
Anyway, 3 coffees later I was starting to feel slightly human. The school run was done, washing hanging on the line. I had completed my few jobs that I desperately needed to get done, quick vacuum through and that would be that. What a silly notion. Managed to knock my already sore toe on the corner of the table and blood instantly poured all over my cream carpet. Scrabbled round trying to grab tissues before anymore dripped and knocked over a glass of juice in the process. At this point I swore really loudly and had a good rant and rave to myself.
The sun is shinning so I had the great idea of sitting in the garden for half an hour, with my book, another coffee and chocolate biscuits. Got my self comfy in the garden chair, feet up, perfect! Too good to be true, of course, up rolls a digger and starts digging up the drains right outside my house. "Thanks a chuffing lot" I shout, I wasn't heard over the rumble of the drills. I wouldn't mind if they had sent some young, fit, workmen. You know, something nice to look at, but oh no, I get the bald, old, beer belly variety
So here I am sat inside with the door closed having a moan. My 3 year is also not in a good mood today. He appears to have lost the power of movement or speech. He's laid in the middle of the floor with his blankie watching the TV and the only word that comes out of his mouth is "muuummmmy" In a horrible, whingy, tone. "'I'v run away, Charlie" I shout "Run away to a place far, far away!"