Now because I’m an utter tease, I left you with a bit of a cliff hanger on last nights blog. I know for many of you you’ll have been stalking the Facebook page until you found out if I had made it to B & Q with Eli and Christiaan this morning. I’ve not let on ALL day because, we all enjoy a bit of suspense on a Sunday but it’s time now, it’s time I put you out of your misery… I made it AND I bought a shelf for Eli’s room. I CONQUERED THE SUNDAY. OK OK so I had to wear my sun glasses because my eyes were burning and I walked like I shat myself round the store, but I made it and to be fair there are worse sights than me in B & Q at 9.30am on a Sunday morning. It was no mean feat to get myself out. I woke up this morning looking like a Terrahawk, which would be fine if I felt alright but I felt like a Terrahawk too, one that had been in Ibiza in the 90’s for 4 weeks straight and had only just made it home. I had used the reverse commando roll move to get out of bed an hour and a half later than Christiaan and Eli and after giving myself a good talking to I made it into the shower. Eli was “spirited” all morning. He wanted to wrestle with me and giant monkey, do jigsaws, read and, well, be 2 and I would 100% rather spend what energy I had left having fun with my boy – by the time we left the house I felt like I’d done a shift already. Making it to B & Q was like climbing Everest.
After a visit from his Granny he went to bed for a nap (hooray for naps) and I set about the vital business of RESTING. It all went to shit though, I happened to walk past a mirror and realise that the denim tunic I’ve put on today that’s (only being worn for the second time ever) actually makes me look like a denim tree trunk, a really creased denim tree trunk and it made me unreasonably pissed off. Here I was thinking “well I might feel shite but fuck me I’m a hotty, look at me strutting the denim thing like a young un” when all the time I looked like a fucking denim ball bag. WHAT KIND OF DONKEY DICK BAG OF HORSE SHIT KICKS A GIRL WHEN SHE’S DOWN? Who knew your clothes could hate you so much? I was gutted. The majority of my “rest” saw me me sat looking like I was chewing a wasp plotting my revenge… I needed to show this denim tree trunk it hadn’t got the better of me. I had enough on my plate without this shit. I also wanted to boot M.E. in the flaps n all, they were both in this shit together and I refuse to be pissed about today, so I did this: CLICK HERE I PROMISE IT’S NOT WILLIES – you’ll want to read the description.
So I’ve got my revenge, I’ve evolved my educational reach and hopefully I’ve made one or two smile; it’s a good result I’d say, even if it only raises pennies for a good cause. Share this post, share the eBay link if you want, do whatever you want to; I didn’t try my fucking hardest at fat club for 9 months to be made a tit of by a denim tunic. I’m going to win at this, just like I’m going to win at life in the long run.
So after I decided I was doing it, it was done, because I’m not one to procrastinate. I scheduled the listing to start at 7.45pm and this blog to go out at 8pm and I started to settle down a bit again. By the time Eli got up for his nap I’d sat down for a bit and gathered my thoughts, I’d not got changed my clothes mind, I was still wearing it, I was so pissed off with this bastard tunic that I decided it could hang on my body KNOWING that it was the last time. The most brutal of break ups.
So far my day had consisted of B & Q and listing a tunic on eBay and I was fucked, but the weather has been utterly shitty here for a while and today, there was no rain so we walked the 3 minutes from the house to the beach and let Eli have a paddle. As always I was bring up the rear (no anal jokes) dragging my concrete legs behind me but it felt good to be out even if my body didn’t think so
Eli has no idea how lucky he is to have the beach this close to home, it’s an amazing play ground that he’ll love when he’s old enough to explore it independently but for now, he behaves like a massive bell end with a hunger for drowning every time we go. We always have to time our visit with low tide in the hope that his full scale Ussain Bolt speed means we’ve got a bit longer to try and catch him before he hits the water. Now, I’d not mind him getting wet but the pedantic little fucker hates being wet, he abides by the rule of the toddlers: he wants the thing but NOT the thing. He’s unreasonable and nuts and we lasted 14 minutes before we were home again because Christiaan had to drag him out the sea and he was crying because his feet were wet and he wanted to go back in the sea – fuck my life.
The good thing is though that we have enough photo’s to put on Facebook so that people think we live the idyllic life, and we know that’s everyone’s main goal in life. We also have picture number 3, which is Eli kicking off, soaked and Christiaan looking like he gives not one of the fucks about it. Which of course he doesn’t.
So all in all it looks like I’ve had a busy day… right? I thought so too, until I broke it down. Including the 15 minute car journey each way to the retail park I’ve been out of the house for under 2 hours today. 2 hours out of the 13 (so far) I’ve been up and I am absolutely broken. My limbs feel weak, my eyeballs are burning, verbally I’m all over the place and I’m so so heavy. All of this in itself isn’t new, it comes and goes in varying intensity but what is new is the goosebumps. I should call them something else really because goosebumps sound so cute and harmless…. frozen bullets, that’s what I’ll call mine I think. This is a new symptom. I can only liken it to the goosebumps you get sporadically when you’ve got the flu, the ones that feel like they’re huge, made of ice and instantly make your skin sore but these ones KEEP.ON.COMING. It’s been 24 hours since they started and it’s driving me mad. I’m guessing it’s related to my bone pain, if you’ve never had bone pain before the only way I can describe it is like your bones are frozen to the core and they’re trying to get out of your skin. It’s really unpleasant and means I’m struggling to feel comfortable, even with my pain killers. No cure for any of this people. None. Remember that. Even though the internets would have you believe that there are 98653495864389564394865 ways to cure it, it’s all just bullshit and I do wish it’d piss off.
DOWN WITH THIS SORT OF THING.
BIG FAT HAIRY BOO