Monday, March 02, 2015


I am so busy it’s not funny.

Every single day I have to remind myself not to panic or hyperventilate and even as I type this on a break, my heart is pumping madly and my fingers are twitching.

How did I get here again? Oh, because I wanted to do everything, it all sounded terribly fun and exciting when I said yes and yes and yes and yes.

I must focus on eating and drinking, going to the toilet when I need to, and sleeping sufficiently.

Oh and there's the kids of course. And KK's fledgling business for which I'm corporate support.

The eczema, my reliable stress indicators, is flaring up.

I can’t wait for June when I think it’ll all be over.

I’m turning 40 in 14 days. I just want to get my passport, pack a bag and escape, alone, to some cold desolate place with no Internet and no people, away even from my husband and children.

Sick of commitment, sick of responsibility.

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