Crumble
Ok, I won't be losing any weight this week, let's just get that out of the way right now. The boy made an apple crumble today. He has taken GCSE cookery and this was meant to be made a couple of weeks ago, and it was just too hot. Then, he couldn't be bothered. Then he had an extension of the assignment. Then he was making noises about me making it for him. And then, this morning, he decided that actually, he wanted to make it himself.
Holy shitballs, the apple (no pun intended) hasn't fallen too far from the tree. He's his mother's boy all right! Or as Mr G told him 'That was the nicest apple crumble I have ever had, it's even nicer than your mother's'.
So, with that in mind, Mr G and I have decided that we are going to divorce. I will be seeking legal advice as soon as it is safe to do so, and I will find a man who appreciates my apple crumble. That is not a euphemism.
Mr G has just headed off to work. I've made him some chicken salad wraps to take with him, as he has a heck of a shift ahead of him. Not work wise but time wise, twelve hours is gruelling. He is looking forward to it, and truth be told, so am I. We've spent so much time together over the years, we really are two sides of the same coin, and we never get sick of each other's company. We are lost without the other when we're apart.
However, since lockdown, where not only have we been together 24-7, but three of the children too, it just seems that there hasn't been a minute. A minute of solitude. A minute of peace. I wake up early in the morning, which used to be my time - and if Mr G isn't on the sofa asleep, my daughter is, because she's seen a spider or a moth in her room, or she was up watching telly and sparked out. It's not even like the summer holidays because they all do their own thing then.
I just feel completely stifled right now, like the walls are closing in on me. I'm reaching my limit with lockdown, and I am craving normality again. I'm looking forward to an evening of no television, I might go for a long bath in a minute, slap on a face mask, and then enjoy a video call with a friend. Tunes on. And an early night, starfished. That's me for tonight. Tomorrow is another day.
Holy shitballs, the apple (no pun intended) hasn't fallen too far from the tree. He's his mother's boy all right! Or as Mr G told him 'That was the nicest apple crumble I have ever had, it's even nicer than your mother's'.
So, with that in mind, Mr G and I have decided that we are going to divorce. I will be seeking legal advice as soon as it is safe to do so, and I will find a man who appreciates my apple crumble. That is not a euphemism.
Mr G has just headed off to work. I've made him some chicken salad wraps to take with him, as he has a heck of a shift ahead of him. Not work wise but time wise, twelve hours is gruelling. He is looking forward to it, and truth be told, so am I. We've spent so much time together over the years, we really are two sides of the same coin, and we never get sick of each other's company. We are lost without the other when we're apart.
However, since lockdown, where not only have we been together 24-7, but three of the children too, it just seems that there hasn't been a minute. A minute of solitude. A minute of peace. I wake up early in the morning, which used to be my time - and if Mr G isn't on the sofa asleep, my daughter is, because she's seen a spider or a moth in her room, or she was up watching telly and sparked out. It's not even like the summer holidays because they all do their own thing then.
I just feel completely stifled right now, like the walls are closing in on me. I'm reaching my limit with lockdown, and I am craving normality again. I'm looking forward to an evening of no television, I might go for a long bath in a minute, slap on a face mask, and then enjoy a video call with a friend. Tunes on. And an early night, starfished. That's me for tonight. Tomorrow is another day.
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