Deja vu
Hang on, time seems to have spun suddenly backwards. It's two years ago, surely? Everyone's ill and we've been having terrible nights. For example, the night before last I slept only between 11 and 12.30, 4 and 5 and 5.20 and 6.15. I did get to go back to bed again at 9 and sleep til nearly noon, but daytime sleep, while essential on that sort of regime and much appreciated, is just not as good as nighttime sleep, IMExtensiveE.
When I am awake I'm bad tempered and totally lacking in ability to think of things to do to keep ill-and-hence-grotty children entertained. So they watch television far too much and I imagine that they will grow up to be passive consumerist zombies, incapable of making their own amusements. The weekend job-list gets ruthlessly prioritised to those things that absolutely have to be done - a few admin things that will otherwise incur financial penalties and ironing a shirt for PB for school next week, I think, although I haven't actually been able to face the work of working out what needs doing yet. ETA: no, get a grip M-R, PB does not have to have an ironed shirt for tomorrow. He can perfectly well wear an unironed one, especially since I'm the only adult fit to iron at the moment and I would be absolutely bound to burn myself if I did such an unaccustomed task as ironing while feeling this ill. All I have to do, now I've hung out the wet laundry that's been sitting in the basket all day, is heat leftovers and boughten soup for tea and pack PB's bag. Oh and wash myself, but I can do that in a bath later, which is pretty much just lying down in a darkened room. Which is very appealing. Sorry for boring detail - I'm psyching myself up for final action.
While I a) wish to whinge and feel sorry for myself, I do also b) want to remember how crap it was when this was normal, and how unbelievably long that stage went on for (3 years? Something like that) c) marvel at what we, and people more generally, can cope with when they have to and d) express profound gratitude to the universe that this is no longer my normal.
When I am awake I'm bad tempered and totally lacking in ability to think of things to do to keep ill-and-hence-grotty children entertained. So they watch television far too much and I imagine that they will grow up to be passive consumerist zombies, incapable of making their own amusements. The weekend job-list gets ruthlessly prioritised to those things that absolutely have to be done - a few admin things that will otherwise incur financial penalties and ironing a shirt for PB for school next week, I think, although I haven't actually been able to face the work of working out what needs doing yet. ETA: no, get a grip M-R, PB does not have to have an ironed shirt for tomorrow. He can perfectly well wear an unironed one, especially since I'm the only adult fit to iron at the moment and I would be absolutely bound to burn myself if I did such an unaccustomed task as ironing while feeling this ill. All I have to do, now I've hung out the wet laundry that's been sitting in the basket all day, is heat leftovers and boughten soup for tea and pack PB's bag. Oh and wash myself, but I can do that in a bath later, which is pretty much just lying down in a darkened room. Which is very appealing. Sorry for boring detail - I'm psyching myself up for final action.
While I a) wish to whinge and feel sorry for myself, I do also b) want to remember how crap it was when this was normal, and how unbelievably long that stage went on for (3 years? Something like that) c) marvel at what we, and people more generally, can cope with when they have to and d) express profound gratitude to the universe that this is no longer my normal.