I am on desperate count down for holiday, I need to get away. I know I need to get away because i’m constantly teetering on a knife edge of telling people to cock off. Not my family, not my friends but other people. People that you can normally tolerate, like mad people who say stuff about your children in supermarkets, irritating pervert neighbours and such. My face has sort of puckered into a constant frown and I feel, well, sort of snarly towards everybody. I’ve had a lovely few weeks with the boys where i’ve sort of shut off from “life” and just had time with them, away from all the normal stuff, but you can’t block everything and well, as I say, I seem to be inundated with cocks and i’m struggling to cockblock them.
Why do people think it’s acceptable to comment on your parenting in the supermarket? Yes they are a handful aren’t they but at least they have a personality as opposed to you who has clearly had a lobotomy at some point. Why does Prod think it’s acceptable to just, well, be himself? Stop perving on me and STOP BLOODY CLEANING YOUR CAR. WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THERE THAT IT NEEDS CLEANING EVERY DAY ANYWAY?! No, actually don’t answer that, I don’t think I want to know.
The last time I felt this fed up I moved to Australia. But the grass isn’t always greener on the other side. We say that we want to move to Cornwall but would life be any better there? If we moved there, would it be spoilt? It’s our place to get away from it all and I wouldn’t want it (life) to cloud that. Perhaps it should be kept as a get away, our very special place where we completely let go of all life’s worries. It’s a different world; Planet Cornwall. And for everybody and everything that gets on my tits here, there’s bound to be an equivalent there. So perhaps we should just stick to the dream of moving there e-ven-tually when the kids are grown up and things are a bit different. But there’s always that thought at the back of my mind; what if?
It’s getting out of that funk though isn’t it where you have to mentally slap yourself and think ‘you’re very lucky in comparison to a lot of people, you have a lovely family, great friends and a roof over your head.’ But why is it sometimes just so bloody hard to see that? Why do all the irritations in life sometimes get to you so much that you can’t appreciate what you do have? I am so irritated at myself for letting these people get to me.
Yorkshire; we need a break.