Trapped and teary

burger

The youngest has been sick for seven days now and I’m going slightly mad. I’m also running out of things to blog about because all I do is sit around the house watching crappy kids’ movies.

OK, I’m exaggerating slightly: it was Husband who got stuck with carer duties on Saturday night, Sunday and Monday. Meanwhile, as he tended to her and came down with it himself (I am trying to feel sorry for him … failing), I was out painting the town red.

In an uncharacteristically sociable burst I went to the school fundraiser on Saturday night, hoovered the bubbles then flung myself around on the dancefloor to the tune of “Nutbush City Limits”. I suspect I looked like a hyperactive newborn crane as I wobbled around on high heels for the first time in years (two of my toes are still numb, I’m worried I have nerve damage) … I probably looked a bit like Liz Lemon on 30 Rock

liz-lemon-dancing

Or Elaine on Seinfeld

On Sunday I popped out to a local watering hole with my sister and her bloke for some hair of the dog with a side order of salt and pepper squid.

Then on Monday night I discovered my new favourite drink – vodka lime and soda, which washed down the chorizo quesadillas very nicely at a Mexican themed pub in Surry Hills.

So it’s a little churlish for me to be complaining about having to spend a measly few days at home. But all the inactivity, interspersed with popping out to get burgers and fries for our lunch has made me feel all sluggish and slug-like.

It’s also made me a little OCD about social media. I’ve been lurking and pouncing on every single message, alert, like and unlike. Not healthy. But at least I don’t have the flu.

GET ME OUT OF HERE!

Or at least keep your fingers crossed the youngest is well enough for school today … because apparently the year 4s who still don’t have their skipping ropes are organising a lynch mob. The youngest’s teacher rang and ordered me to bring the ropes tomorrow whether my child turns up or not. She also requested that no more money change hands in the playground. Party pooper.

And then, just when I thought I didn’t have any more tears to shed about my ex, something happened that made them spring again. This song took on an awful significance. The reason why is too brutal to blog, so I’ll just leave you with the clip …

It’s such a good song, I’m really pissed that he’s ruined it for me.

 

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