Shattered is what I was after last night’s Thinking Day Celebrations. It took me until about 1.30am to calm down enough from the evening in order to sleep. I was just overstimulated….the week has just been tough. Myriad small stresses round me, and I quite simply don’t seem to have stopped. I need to stop. After tomorrow’s half marathon (and that’s why knackered is not a good place to be). I’ve taken an iron pill, and I’m having a very slow morning in bed. I have to get up soon – I need to go to the bank and bring the Brownies accounts up to date, and get the fabric conditioner refilled.
All those things that make life normal. I’m aiming for normal. I’ve spent most of the last week worrying about world war and impending apocalypse (it’s the weather that’s doing it) and considering stockpiling fabric handkerchiefs, moisturiser, and inhalers. N’s in charge of the vegetable patch and something to defend it with. This worrying has got to the point where it’s made me seriously consider if I do want children, if I’m going to bring them into a world that I think has no future. Part of this was pre-menstrual worry. I do feel rather less despondent now.
Anyhow. Thinking Day was fab. We had 70 people in our little hall, lots of fun activities, only one batch of tears (I need to email the perpetrator’s parents, but I’m working up to it), balloons, singing, and badges. We learned about the Education MDG: and there’s been some excellent films made. I think that this year’s Thinking Day pack was a bit light on fabulous activities, particularly compared with last year (No Glitter! SHAME cried the Guides – but they remembered that it was all to do with germs!). Hopefully next year will be better.
Down to Bas later, then Bath. Then the race. Then back on Monday. Then back to Bas on Tuesday to sit in the dining room of N’s Dad on Wednesday. Thursday is DBS checks. Brownies Friday (fortunately doesn’t require much input – art and design are fairly easy to organise) then another race next weekend. February was fairly relentless. March is also relentless. I don’t travel very well, and I cannot sustain N’s commute. Door-to-door, it is the better part of 2 hours even with the van…Just dealing with it once a week is hard. Dealing with it on top of why we’re dealing with it is harder – this week, we’d just settled in to some undemanding TV for the night, and we got a call that N’s Dad had had a fit, and we had to go driving round to find the relevant pills for him because the hospital pharmacy didn’t have any in stock. He was fairly perky when we did get to see him on Wednesday afternoon (all things considered – and at that point, he’d had a fairly good 15 hour sleep, with EPIC snores most of the day. I like listening to him snoring), and decided that, yes please, he’d like some knitted socks. I am knitting him Zebra socks. N is all subdued after we’ve spent the day there, and that’s also hard. I go to morris practice, which is helpful, but he needs something after other than solitude. This is less helpful. I’m not sure quite what to do.
I probably ought to get going. I need to be in Bas in order to depart by 3-ish, and time has marched on by about an hour while I’ve been faffing.