What a difference a day makes. 24 little hours. Yep what a difference indeed. At some point during the night I returned back to my own universe. If you read yesterday's post you will understand, if you didn't then I need to point out I can NOT travel to alternate universes. Though that would be pretty cool if I could.
This morning there was no 'one hour extra' in bed. No sun as I pulled back the curtains. And no gentile breakfast. Instead the wee man decided to wake earlier than normal, gale force winds and rain raged outside like some post-apocalyptic world and breakfast time was much less relaxed. Fussy fussy fussy baby. My super cynical senses were right. I knew it. I could make money with this ability you know.
But it's Friday and that means swimming day which the wee man loves and I have become increasingly adept to changing in the same room as five other women. There is no shame anymore of my slightly protruding belly which has increased in size since I quit work.To tell you a secret I enjoy the swimming with the wee man and if it leads to him making me loads of money in the future then great. Friday also means two days with The Chancellor. This is good news for all of us, the wee man has his mum around and I can eat properly and go to the loo without interruptions Wait a second...my super cynical senses tell me though that I will probably be forced to do some jobs that aren't that fun or interesting, food shopping for one. There is no getting out of these jobs. I could fain illness but I had a flu jab yesterday so that wouldn't work. No. I will be cheer up even if the world outside is miserable. Bring on a busy supermarket on a weekend, I'm ready. The Chancellor might even allow me to buy a bottle of wine this weekend, that would be something wouldn't it?