One kid has poonami gastro, the other has conjunctivitis and then I get a boil in my butt crack. Ahhhh, when it rains…..
Yeah, I get it.
Probably the most annoying expression in the whole of fucking history, right next to the skin of your teeth. Who the hell has skin on their teeth?
How would you even clean it?
With a loofah so you have nicely buffed and exfoliated skin on your teeth? Surely no one wants dry, scaly skin on their teeth? Instead of pearly whites being desirable, would you fake tan?
That thought is rank… As rank as a boil in your butt crack, I guess, but the doctor was very lovely and chatty as my bottom waved near her face, so it couldn’t have been that terrible. From memory, she was chatting about Gourmet Traveler of all things….and now I’m in the building.
It’s like my butt is an oracle.
I’m so flat out at the moment that I barely have time to think (as may be evident by the revealing nature of my opening paragraph). I actually keep envisaging that one-legged man in the arse kicking contest and smiling. That is so me, right now.
I have to say I actually think it’s a blessing.
Some people operate best at mid-pace. They like to cruise it in, fact-check fastidiously, take their sweet ol’ time and get shit done in an orderly fashion. As I get older, I’ve realised something about me.
I am not like that.
I operate best under pressure. My mind is more focused.
When I don’t have enough to do I mentally pick at myself like a bird that’s bored in its cage, and I have too much space in my head for analysing all of my perceived flaws.
Right now, I’m too busy to think about anything except getting the next task done. To be 100% honest, I’m loving it.
I’m loving that everything I’ve worked towards for the last three years is coming together.
The Steggles book is working with a lot of turkey, so I’m working on the theory that I’m high on tryptophan most days and it’s keeping me nice and mellow.
My mum doesn’t agree, however.
My mama was here for a holiday recently and she mentioned the pace at which I live my life. She said it’s not just busy, but kind of frantic and zingy and anyone who comes into contact with my energy get kinda swept into thinking they’re frantic and zingy too.
The way I see it that makes me a human Berocca and people should pay me to hang out.
Not everyone is loving it, though.
The change in routine has thrown the kids out of whack a little and they are feeling it. Sometimes a little naughty, sometimes a little clingy, sometimes a lot of both.
I know it’s just the change in routine. And to be honest it was a constantly changing routine for about a month while I worked out exactly how the hell I was going to juggle pick ups and drop offs when I was on the other side of town. Everyone did a shift, and it threw us into a little spin.
But now it’s settling down, settling into a routine and a rhythm that’s a whole of lot of jungle boogie but we’re all rolling with it.
Got a feeling the blog is going to suffer for a bit, so this post with slightly more anatomical surgery knowledge than you bargained for, is just my way of warning you that I’m about to be a shitty blogger for a few weeks.
Can you wait for me?
I’d love that.
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