It’s 2.50am. I can’t sleep. Head is abuzz with thoughts. Sometimes I imagine my brain to be like the lights u see in photos of American freeways. Lights whizzing up & down Or bumper to bumper of backed up chaos. Fair description. You see the mulled wine madness of the festive season is slowly seeping into the Memory bank. the new year , new you plans have all but stalled (friggin covid ) I’m awaiting my quarterly Mri to see what the fudge mad Monty( my tumour’s pseudonym ) has or has not been upto. Awaiting these quarterly Scans & their results doesn’t get any easier. the days/weeks leading up to to it are filled with stresses & tension I’m literally on my last nerve. But this my privilege. My survivors privilege. I’m lucky to still be here to still be afraid, to still be stressed. I’ll hold off making resolutions & such for now.....
These are unprecedented times none of us least BoJo have the answers. The kids ask me what’s happening I reluctantly admit I’ve no idea we have to just hope for the best & gather our dame Vera Lynnness .
Big G is still going into work so I’m homeschool master. Well that’s just hilarious. Our day starts with zoom calls. I frantically babywipe a kid, hide breakfast pots, quieten down the over excited Francois bull hog. It’s comedic, honestly teachers deserve a medal. I take a look at the task, make a cuppa & take a deep breath. The kids whizz through it as quickly as possible to get back kids tv. In all honestly though we’re doing ok. We’re safe & together & if we’ve learned nothing else this past year it’s that’s what really matters, right.
Until Next time I couldn’t sign off with sending massive respect & love for G amongst the stars tonight. Rest well kid.