Thinking about the boy I saw crying outside Sainsbury’s on the way to school this morning. He was tall and looked older than primary school, but he was crying and sobbing and telling his mum about someone who had said something nasty to him. I felt awful for him.
I’ve got a very rare day off and I’m sat in a coffee shop listening to all the yummy mummies around me discuss their many holidays, house renovations, latest clothes purchases and weekend plans. I feel worse than when I’m in work. Sometimes I feel like I am just about surviving, but not living, and hearing people talk like this just brings it home. We don’t have money for holidays or house improvements (let alone renovations). We are just about surviving.