Today, I feel Woo Woo, not Wit Wit. A stressful week at work in a job I don’t know if I’ll have this time next week. Compounded by a teenager who’ll tidy up only if I tell him to, a partner who’s working his ass off … but 50 miles away, and a six year old who has the amount of constant boundless energy I wish I had.
Today, I feel huge. My breasts are sore and giving me backache. My bra straps are leaving deep, red grooves in my shoulders and I know I’ll sleep in my bra again tonight – hardly a sexy homecoming for my man.
Today, I’m tired. More than my usual ‘bad day at the office’ tired. I haven’t had a holiday in four years and feel guilty for wanting one right here, right now – preferably without the kids.
Today, I refuse to cook or clean. I deserve a night off. The dishes will wait. If someone else cleans them, it’ll be a bloody miracle. If not, I’m not going to nag. I’m not going to plead for help or hope that just this once someone will just understand my tiredness and pull their finger out. My family aren’t mind readers – they’ll only understand if I stop trying to be so bloody strong all the time and do everything myself. Quite frankly, today I’m too tired to even talk.
Tonight, I’ll bath for an hour and drink gin. I’ll smother myself in bubbles inside and out. I’ll sink under the water and dream I’m in the Carribbean, not Kent. I’ll sing like Beyonce as loudly as I can. I’ll smother my sore shoulders in the most expensive moisturiser I can find. I’ll rub away the pain of the week that has manifested itself in these scars. I’ll watch whatever shit television I want to watch. I’ll eat mint Aero and Kettle Chips until I feel a little sick. I’ll paint my nails the brightest red I have and have tea made for me all evening.
Tomorrow …. is a brand new day.