My children and I (all over 17) have come away for a few days. Only a few. I work full time, bloody hard and I am also doing a full time degree. I decided back in April that I needed to do what others always tell me to do, take some time for myself, look after me. I’m a single parent so money isn’t wonderful but I saved and saved for these few days so that we could all be together and relax (I wouldn’t at home, I’d do jobs…the endless jobs).
We arrived to find small plum pips all over the garden (we have our two dogs) which are toxic for dogs and mine were munching on them like they were gourmet! So I spent the first day picking them all up along with the many cigarette butts. The house is lovely, clean beautiful, but I couldn’t relax. Then my sons car was broken into, thankfully he had taken anything valuable into the house, but still had to pay the excess for the back windscreen!
Now, to just top it off, I’m in bed with a sickness bug.
Why can’t life just be simple sometimes?
I know, compared to lots, it’s not the worst thing in the world but I feel sad for me tonight.