Exhaustipated

 

Sometimes I wonder what on Earth is wrong with life because at the moment it isn’t spreading itself out very well. It’s either all or nothing, like the Universal Traffic Lights have got stuck on red and then they suddenly wake up and go green without pausing on amber for a while to ease the transition from stop to go, go, go!!! 

Today, I could do this. I could wedge myself into a small space and go to sleep with my dribbly face pressed up against a hard surface. There’s been a sudden rush on village hall bookings so I’ve been trying to nip in and out here and there to make sure the place is clean for the incoming bookings. This is set to continue over the next week so I am bracing myself. (I am still appalled at how ikky the men’s toilets can become even in the space of a couple of days🤢.) Of course, this does mean I am building up a nice reserve in ‘My Cleaning Money’ pot. I am thinking I might save up and then spend it on a writing retreat.

The damsons have decided to go from rock hard to ready-to-eat in the space of a day so I have been de-pipping and open freezing them by the pound because they are particularly big and gorgeous this year and I can’t bear to see them go to waste. There’s been a lot of wasps hanging around, too. Barely seen one all Summer and then BAM! It’s wasp central. This sends Nell the Poo into a frenzy of hysterical excitement whereby she wants to catch them but knows she shouldn’t on account of their stingy bottoms.

I’ve been doing lots of writing because I made a pact with myself that, regardless of how busy other aspects of my life become, I SHALL write at least 1,000 words a day because that is what proper writers do. The planned novel (as opposed to the scattergun approach novel) is bounding on apace which is very satisfying. 

And I’ve had a visitor here (on and off) this week whose presence literally drains the life out of me. I am resolved to put boundaries in place with this person. Ditto my brother who is being very testy at the moment because of mum being in hospital. His way of coping is to be sarcastic and awkward and I can’t be doing with it. 

To give myself a bit of ‘oomph’ I have bought myself a book, a pinafore dress and a swishy corduroy skirt. Tomorrow I am going to make myself scarce, switch off my phone and hide in ‘Darling Buds.’ And ask the Universe for a smidgeon of a breather.