No Sleep.....

So this weekend Tim was away with some buddies on a ski-jolly. I don't mind him going as he works hard and deserves a break. Oh - don't believe that bullshit! Truthfully I HATE skiing - so this way, he still gets to do it and I get to go on a girls spa weekend without feeling guilty. Hurrah! We also have a bi-annual debate of either having a "snow" or "sun" holiday. I would rather stick pins in my eyes than go skiing, so thankfully on account of Tim getting his ski-time in, we always choose the "sun" option! 

Well,  for this particular trip, Tim had to get up at the ungodly hour of 4am.... have you ever noticed when you have to be up ultra-early - you never sleep well. You are always checking the clock, hoping you don’t miss the all important alarm. Despite my insisting he got ready in the dark, he still made a shit-load of noise and ended up keeping me awake the whole time, with all his clattering and banging. Tim will also without fail leave and re-leave the house at least 3 times - due to his inate inability to remember everything he needs. You think it would be fairly fucking easy to remember a suitcase, wallet and passport. But no - said wallet and passport were both left behind. I suppose I should be grateful he realised this before the cab departed. On more than two occasions I have done that mad dash to Heathrow to drop off the “wanker passport”. My little electric car bombing along the M4 like something out of “Test-track” (Epcot reference here - if you know, you know!)

Anyway, off he finally went - and the clock read 5am. Let me tell you - that is the most annoying bloody time to try and fall asleep again. I have to be up at 6am everyday- so I lie there desperately trying to get some shut eye. But alas, I can’t fall asleep and I reach for my I-phone. I know it’s the worst thing you can do, but I’m far too awake now to go back to sleep. I settle down to reading Daily Mail online.  Just as I feel my eyelids drop heavily and sleep finally beckons, the bastard alarm suddenly goes off and it’s time to get up. Fuck! I’ve been up since 4am and I feel dreadful. 

Well the day doesn't get any better. Having got the kids to school, I then discover Teddy has left his swim bag at home. It’s right there by the front door, but in my catatonic state I waltzed right past it. I know he has swimming second lesson, so I bomb back to school and deliver the swim bag to Matron. She sighs as she puts down her coffee and half-eaten almond croissant on the desk and tuts when I tell her we left the bag at home. “No Mrs Strong, not ‘we’ but ‘TEDDY’ left it at home....” lectures Matron in an annoying and condescending manner. Oh piss off Matron! I don’t need a fucking lecture from you on Teddy’s shortcomings. My husband doesn’t remember any of his shit EVER - and he’s a sodding adult.

I smile sweetly as I tell Matron that she needs to get the bag to Teddy before the second lesson. You can see the dismay in her eyes as she now realises she’s got to get up off her bony arse and walk round to Teddy’s classroom Pronto. Sorry love if that interrupts your coffee and croissant break - hang on a minute - I’m sure that must be breaking some health and safety rule - steaming hot coffee and food jam-packed with gluten/nut/dairy in a room frequented by poorly and allergy- prone children. She realises I’ve clocked the coffee and croissant and practically shoos me out of the room. Miserable cow.

I spend the next few hours doing copious amounts of wiping and tidying (really to no avail - the house still looks like a shit-hole). Eventually I settle down on the sofa for a mini nana-nap in front of some crap daytime TV programme, only to have window cleaner eagerly knock on the living room window - it’s his way of alerting me that a) he’s arrived and b) to the fact he hopes to sponge a cuppa and kit-kat off me....

I leave the living room to go upstairs to lie down, only to find his acne-ridden teenage apprentice energetically scrubbing the bedroom windows!

Of course my better nature takes over and I end up making tea for two with milk and THREE sugars in each... WHAT is that? Why do all trades people take so much sugar in their drinks? More annoyingly - the kids had hoovered up the last of the kit-kats which left me with no option but to open up the luxury biscuit box which I had been saving for a special occasion. Fucking hell! 

To top it off, it started chucking it down with rain as soon as they left, so my bright sparkling windows were clean for all of 10 minutes. Marvellous!