I nipped round to a friend’s house this morning to have slug down a cuppa and have a quick chat-she’s helping me find work, so it was a ‘time out’ no kids (all at school this morning, yet unguilty moment, as we looked for jobs for me…the search continues, but I’ll get there, softly softly catchy monkey as my old English teacher Mrs Gadd used to say. It stuck, and it’s a bizarre, but handy phrase nonetheless. In all honesty, I do find it difficult not to be ‘doing’ something, I am pretty hard on myself, and rarely let myself just relax. But in reality, how can you with 4 hungry mouths that remind you (in emptying the fridge on a practically daily basis) you need 2 incomes to make life even vaguely possible…
|See what goes through their heads-nasty bastards...|
Esmie screams, begins jumping up and down in what appears to be the WORST pain she has ever, ever suffered, I run over and discover she has had her foot stung by a nasty bastard wasp. They really are the epitomy of nastyarseness. What are they actuallly there for? Stinging us, fine, being attracted to small defenceless bear foot kids eating sweet stuff, so they can ‘sting. I am NOT alright with this. Bees, bees I am alright with, they make hiney (well, no they don’t, they make honey, but you know, it’s late) at the end of the day, they serve a great purpose, and then side of guilt after they sting just one time. There’s some good karma going on there, they will not come back as a bee again, a donkey, maybe, but a bee, no, they’re moving up, they’re cool. Wasps, fookin’ ‘ell, and my poor baby child has been stung by one. I run with her (me bear foot too, over hard gravel doing the half wincy, half hopping, half jumpy dance over them. I think quickly, grab the sting tranquiliser thingy and rub ruby rub. She, however, is not cured, the bloody thing is not doing its job, then I realise, I had been rubby rub rubbing, with the lid still on. Nice work mum. Anyway, she survived, a piece of chocolate took all the pain away, there’s NOTHING chocolate cannot cure depression, mood swings, stings, grazes…it’s the new homeopathic medicine chez us.
As I am at my friend’s this morning, her neighbour comes in in helpless tears; we discover the reason why, through her sobs. Her dog escaped an hour and a half ago, and she had no idea where he was, we are about to ring the nearest refuge (just in case he’s been ‘handed in’) at this point, THREE police cars turn up, looking for the owner of a Husky, her dog, 6 police men and women step out of their vehicles, looking as important as they feel (and my god the police over here feel important). I do question after whether it was THAT necessary to have 3 cars and 6 men/women…Really? French law enforcers, is it? I didn’t question them though, they all had guns…it turns out he’d escaped and eaten a neighbour's cock. Nasty. But thankfully, the dude was forgiving and said he had plenty, and not to worry. Just a little anecdote about how the French work. Good God. Sort it out France.
Well, I had an extremely busy day, fairly productive, the child benefit people had sent 2 threatening letters telling us if we did not provide a particular document before a particular date, they were cutting off our rights…Alright, maybe fair enough had I literally just not done it, but I went in there IN PERSON 2 months previously to hand it to them, which THEY then lost, hence the re-demand. I was all ‘militant head’ on, and when I was told to wait in the queue (approximately 8 thousand people long), I refused, stood my ground and told them this was the SECOND time I was giving them the document they asked me for, no way was I waiting, I thrust the piece of paper at him telling him if they lost it again this time, then be it on their own heads, I am NOT giving it in again. With that, I leave in a whirlwind, cross, but feeling empowered, I crushed someone administrative in France, a first (and probably a last) but I won! This time. The dude was somewhat gobsmacked, and I am sure his hand was shaking as I thrust the paper at him. Sorry dude *guilt sets in*.
Right, off to tackle another day, prepare mentally for phone calls looking for work, and do s*** loads of washing. I hope Wednesday is a good day for you all, no school today, so Mitzi goes to Gym at 11am too, a fun filled day shall be had by all!
See you tomorrow,
Tamsyn x *drives to child benefit office, posts dog poo through the door, that’ll learn ‘em*