So, as if David Bowie's
ghost cursed me yesterday (what did I ever do to him apart from love his
music!?) my day was bad times.
Late for pre school (had technically been awake
since 330am) only parking space is by the muddy ditch. Slip in said mud, brown
ugg now browner. In a horrific car seat adapter error of my own doing - Evelyn
goes tumbling off of pram wheels and zorbs down two steps. My only preventative
measure is to scream 'shit' loudly in a playground full of pre schoolers.
Cancel tumble tots as the risk was too great. Poo under nail, shortly before
Evelyn's fav game of peek a poop! Start
to worry about Rufus for literally no reason. Accidentally water board Evelyn,
feel bad. No G coming home, feel bad as I think of how often he will be away
this year. Craft went wrong, anger at sewing machine, in anger twat hip on
table, pain, great pain! Tempted to open bottle of champagne to myself, but
after looking into the fridge for five minutes I just pathetically went to bed!
None of the above are that bad (apart from dropping Evelyn) no one died (apart
from David) but I still am mildly traumatised!!
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