It’s been one of those weeks, harder than expected.
The Hub’s and my work lives contrast sharply these days – he has much more leisure time than I do, gets to choose when he works (or doesn’t, is perhaps more the point).
Last night, I was feeling frazzled and unwell (hello, razor blades for swallowing anyone?), desperate for sleep, and it didn’t help being woken by a tipsy someone whose return from a few hours’ drinking made him unable to comprehend how loud he was being now: blaring television accompanied by noisy kitchen activity to satiate the midnight snack pangs.
Was it Woody Allen and Mia Farrow who famously chose to live next door or across the street from each other (I forget which)? Because sometimes as much as you want to say, “This is my chosen person and what he does is cool with me,” it isn’t when you’re trying to sleep at midnight on a school night, is it?
This morning’s soundtrack: For Whom The Bell Tolls – Metallica
(It’s on low volume, trust me.)