Whenever I’m feeling strung out my favourite way to unwind is to plunge into the sea, which is weird, because I can’t swim.
You’d think it would stress me out MORE, but no.
DD lives near the ocean, but it’s 45 minutes away from my place, so visiting our favoured beach is quite an expedition.
Still, it really hit the spot on Sunday night when I was feeling beaten up by life.
The waves splashing over me never fail to bring the joy back.
But I was sooooooo knackered when I finally got home after 10pm.
Frustratingly, exhaustion hasn’t stemmed my latest bout of insomnia, so I popped a Stilnox – the sleeping tablet of choice for out-of-control sports stars – and let the dogs out for their last wee of the night.
A few minutes later, Charlie bolted back inside, tail between his legs, hunched, frantically panting and clambering up my leg.
Weird. Super weird.
I Googled “why is my dog acting weird?”
Google was inconclusive. So I called the 24-hour vet, who didn’t know why my dog was acting weird either, but offered to check him out for the princely sum of $300.
I sat on the floor. The dog crawled into my lap, staring up at me with “help me!” eyes.
The Stilnox seeped through my veins. Swoon.
I tell it funnier in real life … you’d be cacking yourself … in a good way.
But the truth is, I felt very alone at that moment. The kids were at their dad’s place, everyone else I knew was asleep. I was about to pass out on my kitchen floor with a potentially dying dog on my lap (she catastrophises).
Then a bee flew up from the dog’s fur and started buzzing around the ceiling and I finally understood what was going on.
Next stop on the panic train: anaphylactic shock.
New Google search.
I considered making a call to the vet. Resisted.
I had another drug swoon, then decided to let the dogs sleep with me for the first time EVER so I could (sort of) keep an eye on the patient.
The dogs were stoked.
Charlie proceeded to growl at me in annoyance every time I had the termerity to move. during the night and disturb his sleep.
I gave up on sleep at 5.15am and started work.
Charlie’s totally fine now.
I’m still obliterated.
Single motherhood can be hell, even when the kids aren’t there.