I feel like I am a hundred years old. I have taken advantage of the fact that it's a plumbing holiday to go plumb crazy. I have been out every night this week, having a lovely time but in a completely unsustainable way. I am tired to my very bones and soul.
An indication of this is the state of my bedroom. Not only is it full of hair and dustballs, there are half-emptied rucksacks and laundry baskets round the place and random installations of old newspapers, dirty socks, coffee mugs and what I call 'face wipey things'. It's kind of gross.
Grossest of all is the fact that a week or so ago I hauled myself across the bed and caught my toe in a little hole that had appeared in the sheet, making a satisfying ripping noise but leaving a much bigger hole. This hole has steadily grown and is now about a foot across, exposing the slightly dilapidated mattress protector. And yet the sheet remains on the bed. I don't want to deal with this, so I am going to bed as late as possible to make it easier to ignore it.
This is not the behaviour of a functioning adult. I keep slapping myself round the face and shouting Get A Grip! (which on reflection is probably not the behaviour of a functioning adult either). But somehow it's easier to get another glass of wine. Sheet schmeet. It's not like it's my side of the bed anyway.
joella
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