The last 48 hours... A GCSE maths exam, a motorway drive, a hospital radiotherapy appointment, two kids' sleepovers, two minor shopping trips, a long conversation with my father's social worker, meals cooked and dishwasher loaded (maybe it goes without saying), dog walked, beer drunk, about 11 hours' sleep, and a couple of bad-tempered squabbles of course.
At least Friday and Saturday aren't working days.
This is my first blog post. It should be a gentle beginning, like spreading the slices of bread I suppose. But I can't give you all the background because it's too boring and complicated, and you'd probably stop reading before you began.
I'm going to try to avoid too much moaning, you'll be pleased to hear. I'm not the only working-single-parent-carer who's juggling too many responsibilities, and we all want to scream "But what about ME?!" sometimes. I'm bitter and bitchy when provoked, and I'm often as exhausted as limp lettuce.
I'm no saint. I'm not long-suffering. Putting other people's needs before my own does not come naturally to me. I do not like the situation I find myself in and I would really, really like to run away and live happily ever after on a Greek island in the sunshine.
But so far I'm still here. Becoming a reluctant altruist.
That'll do for a first installment. Have a look at 'Me and my sandwich' over there on the right of the page, if you want to know a little bit more.
Marge.
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