Well hello.

So what’s news? Been up to much? Weather’s been awful hasn’t it?  Not much to report here.

I’d like to wow you with all the fantastic things I have been doing instead of blogging but the truth is… I can’t. It hasn’t been a conscious decision not to blog, I just haven’t felt the urge to. Actually, just reading that back I realise that’s not true. I have had the urge to but I just haven’t. Nothing seemed interesting enough to talk about and the few things that were potential topics seemed a little pretentious.

The long and the short of it is that I have been in the doldrums. The Sunday Night Blues have been edging their sneaky way into Monday and Tuesday and, well, you get the picture. Whether it’s being back in the routine of school and work and home and cooking and washing and homework and packed lunches or whether it’s the looming School Trip and all my concerns and worries building up, I don’t know. Probably a bit of both. A lot of both.

I don’t mind routine and I don’t mind cooking (quite like it at the moment as we are trying out some new ideas and it’s all quite interesting and new), I don’t even really mind the washing and the packed lunches. Homework isn’t such an issue anymore as T just gets on with it on his own with little or no input from me and A is getting on with the enormous number of tasks on her “grid” which appear to be straightforward enough. So it’s the trip then. I knew this would happen and I’m not sure if I’m making it worse by thinking too much but the closer it gets the more I am feeling out of control. I’m having “busy” dreams again and waking early feeling knackered.

The situation with the other girls seems to have been relatively settled since they have been back at school. I almost wish they weren’t. Because a period of calm is normally always followed by an “incident” and I really don’t want the timing to be wrong and have an “incident” occur while they are away. In the meantime I am doing all the right things – buying a top for the disco (hopefully one that will be deemed appropriate by the fashionistas) and getting toiletries sorted out. But my heart’s somewhere in the pit of my stomach and I can only hope that the smile belies my true feelings.

I don’t want her to go. Rather, I don’t want her to go without me. Mrs F and I joked a while back that we should both take the week off work and go up to Norfolk incognito and keep watch. Much hilarity ensued over costumes to make us look like seals on Blakeney Point. Somewhere in my rational mind (I know it’s in there somewhere) I can hear the voice telling me that she will be fine. She will be fine.I  am not going to be fine. I’ve booked the day off on Monday so that I can wave her off and come home and cry. Let’s not pretend that I’m going to do anything else. I cried when T went and he had lots of lovely, lovely friends going with him. So it’s a done deal that I will cry on Monday. Ideally I don’t want to see anyone for the rest of the week, as I know they will want to know how I am. I am going to be waiting for any little snippet of information on Twitter and I am going to not let my phone leave my person for one second. Poor K and T. It’s going to be a LOOOOONG week.

But perhaps when the week is over I will start to feel like me again. Perhaps I will begin to enjoy cooking new stuff and going to Pilates (restarted last week and it’s great, just not completely great) and going out for dinner with a friend and making plans. Roll on the 25th September. Until then, hibernation.


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