o sleep for longer than an hour at a time. The whole house creaks and groans and shifts during the night - I lay awake on Sunday night listening, convinced that the cast of Michael Jackson's Thriller were about to burst into the room and start shaking their funky stuff in front of my fitted wardrobes. Amelia left on Monday morning following an horrific Sunday (post to follow) and I celebrated this by going to Ayres and buying a fresh fruit cream gateau and eating half of it myself. I felt so appalled by this gluttony that I didn't eat for the rest of the day.Today, half mangled by lack of sleep, I've walked into doors, tripped up stairs, fallen over dogs - I'm black and blue and am sure that Marjorie Stewart (collecting for Help the Aged "have you got anything old you don't want any more dear?" - I was half tempted to say "my mother in law") is convinced I'm a battered wife. "That looks sore dear" she said as she appraised by already-turning-yellow bruise on my upper arm. I sensed she was about to call for Frank (retired policeman just itching to uncover a crime on The Avenue - more about the neighbourhood watch in another post) so I hastened inside the house and flopped onto the stairs, neatly catching my left elbow on the bannister rail. My expletives woke the dogs up. I'm at that tired stage where tears are always hovering close by. Mac refused to eat his shepherd's pie this evening (all will become clear later) and instead of negotiating calmly and sensibly as I would normally do I had to call David in to deal with "his son" while I snivelled and crashed around the kitchen feeling unloved and melancholy.
But now that I've got that lot off my chest, I'm off to bed. David promised me, as I logged on ten minutes agoe, that he had a sure fire way to help me fall asleep. This was accompanied by a lewd wink and a suggestive hip waggle. As I can hear him snoring from down here I'm guessing I shall be wrestling with my night demons alone again.
4 comments:
No need to wrestle your night demons alone! Pour yourself a nice glass of red to keep yourself company - it'll help you sleep too (and snore - so you can rival David!)
It's possible that David was doing the hip thing because, inspired by your 'Thriller' visions, he was planning to dance to you. Just a thought. Anticipating true mother in law horror post v keenly.
Oh honey. Big hugs.
Ahh, give ya demons a wink and tell 'em to shuv off! Loved your blog.
Crystal xx
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