It’s worn off. Whatever I’ve been using to get me through this week/weekend/forever has slowly died away today.
I had a good night sleeping and curling around my babies. It was a bit like swap the bed with the three of them at one point but they and I slept pretty well. The usual 3 hour blocks but nothing wrong with that if it works.
Got up first thing, set up Abey with my phone and Netflix at 6am and he went back to sleep. I got up at 8.30 and cleaned up while everyone slept. Jack got up at 9, got cosy on the couch and went straight back to sleep. No one else got up until 11; it was just Abraham and I. Cleaning and tidying and it was rather nice really.
I caught up with all the laundry, (no mean feat), the bedrooms were swept and tidied and the bathrooms clean. Washing in off the line, shopping for a new airer and some carpet fresheners and we were back for taking my oldests girlfriend home by 2. Did that, took some smalls along for the ride, home, more laundry, more sweeping, more tidying and dinner by 4. Pizza, because Sunday and getting tired now.
All the children have been bathed and hair washed, I’ve sorted all their stuff out for school tomorrow, all I need to do is find one of Jacks shoes. I’ve been looking all day and I can’t find them but I’m hoping there’s a spare pair somewhere for him. I doubt it but needs must. None of the shops are open and I doubt I’ll get a pair before 7.30 in the morning.
I’m sat down for the first time today. And I can feel the black cloud coming. Its started with me trying to apologise to him. I messaged him on Facebook as I deleted his numbers and stuff. Clearly he’s not accepting messages from me. It’s fine, I just said sorry I called him an asshole. I didn’t say that I don’t usually resort to name calling but I was angry, maybe I should have. It’s not me, you know? I don’t do that. I don’t really do angry. Of course he’ll never get the message and that’s okay. It’s fine but I’m not sure I’m happy with someone’s last impression of me being of me calling them names. I’m sure I’ve got it all twisted but that’s how it feels. Not quite right. But I’m sure if he’d wanted to make it up he’d have replied and he left it which maybe was the best thing for all of us. I don’t know. If he ever reads this know this: I’m sorry.
I don’t know if this is a reasonable feeling or if it’s the return of my anxiety or just the general malaise or what. I dont know.
I’m so tired. I’m tired and I feel worn out and if I can’t find this shoe my whole weekend will be black. I’m still here and trying but sometimes. I wish I could just have a really big rest. No worries necessary.