It’s when my life suddenly becomes a blur.
Days are indistinct enough with the constant round of meals, naps and nappies of an under two, add a turning twelve plus friends, a house guest plus girl-friend and a husband home with a bad back and I lose my last slight grip on external life. You know, the one with careers, the slightest idea of this year’s trends or even if there has been an earthquake/flood/hurricane somewhere other than in Brighton…(if there was one in Brighton I slept through it).
So it’s Friday and I feel strangely suspended. Disconcerting.
I’m beginning to fear that the picture I sent to America is lost…the thought makes me sad so I’m trying to visualise the tube arriving safe and sound with it’s happy new owners.
Hopefully now that I’ve written it down my fear will be proved wrong.
My feeling suspended is like feeling lost to myself.
I do have time to myself but somehow I’m off wandering aimlessly unable to catch my own attention. So much to do, and so much I think I want to do, yet all I feel like doing is sleeping.
Hmmm, I might go to bed in fact…and the picture will arrive tomorrow and all will feel right again.