Day 3...

So I haven’t been able to sleep the past couple of nights, I feel rather stressed and ‘naggy’. My eyeballs hurt because my mind was on overdrive about my ‘New Life’ and they were doing that REM thing so oh how fabulous, I have another meegraine. (I know it’s ‘migraine’ but I write how I speak because I’m dyslexic and I speak it thus because it’s more fun.)

Step 1 is going well. I’ve not had a drink or a cigarette for ONE WHOLE ENTIRE WEEK *insert Mexican Wave here*, so that’s all gravy. However, this teetotal me is not without it’s drawbacks. You see, this hurts to say and i feel ashamed but here goes… I don’t really know who I am without my ‘friends’. F@ck! This is seriously deep! Before I can be truly happy, I kinda need to know that. That’s like, important information that I MUST get round to obtaining. And quickly!

To take my mind off of things, I took my son to one of those soft play areas today. He walked so nicely next to me, all the way to the bus stop. Once there, he flirted with a few old people, threatened to run in the road and play with the traffic but before long we were admiring the beautiful views on our chosen mode of transport. I swear to you, the sick on the back of that seat had splattered into the shape of Jesus’ face! – It was a very spiritual moment. Anyway, so that was all lovely and we got there and man alive it was carnage! I started to get palps instantly. I looked around at what can only be described as a scene from Lord of the Flies and realised there was no way in HELL my little, beautiful child would be subjected to such hideous animalistic voilence. I turned to get out of there fast! But then it dawned on me. I had just paid £5.10 for this! I whipped off his dinosaur print all-in-one (may their strength rub off on you Max) and threw him in to the sea of small mad people in the Ball Pit! “GOOD LUCK MY CHILD!’ I shouted after him. A woman with greying hair looked at me with a worried look on her face. It was obvious she was yet to see her offspring since practically sentencing it to death. I reached out and touched her hand and we silently prayed…

Two hours later, we emerged with a mere friction burn from the bumpy slide and nothing more. Despite the best efforts of two hideously Ralphed up 8 year olds, Max survived. When he bared his teeth and rugby tackled the taller one because he wouldn’t let him have a foam ball, i’ll admit it, I got a warm, fuzzy feeling . Almost what I would describe as happiness…

So then, Step 2…Who am I???…. If you know, then I’d be really grateful to hear from you.

Warm regards,

Happy Chops x