Welcome to Feel Goodish Friday.

I am not feeling very good.

This is because I made the wise decision to attend a comedy gig last night and behave as though I didn’t need to get up in the morning and didn’t need to go to work and didn’t need to ‘make the most’ of my final hours of freedom to write before I endure six weeks of full-time mumming/slowly dying.

The wine at the gig was very bad, which was not my fault. Also not my fault was having to gulp it like water because the room was very hot. Being offered a gin and tonic by a total stranger at 11pm was not my fault. The comedy being of a such high standard that my throat hurt from laughing (which furthered the need for drinking) was also not my fault.

It WAS my fault to decide to go back to a mates house afterwards for a cuppa, but his decision to open a very good bottle of wine instead was NOT my fault. Nor was his joyous company which meant I had to stay until 3am in order to be afforded adequate time to repeat myself repeatedly whilst making VERY IMPORTANT AND UNIQUELY WISE OBSERVATIONS ABOUT LIFE.

Shhhhhh, please…

I am too tired to care about the world today, but there is one thing happening that we can feel goodish about:

We will not be in one of the 3.4 million vehicles taking to the UK roads tomorrow, heading off on holiday. Unless you are. In which case, all I have to say is: THE MIDDLE LANE IS NOT THERE TO SERVE AS A VISUAL REPRESENTATION OF YOUR MIDDLE-OF-THE-ROAD PERSONALITY, LOOKS AND LIFESTYLE. MOVE OVER. Thank you.

For the next six weeks, blogging standards may slip as I will be occupied by serving up a constant supply of lucozade, cake and slightly disproportionately harsh discipline, punctuated by as many fags and naps as I can afford to pay the child to allow me.

Whatever works, right?

Let’s open the bar. It’s not our fault it’s Friday…

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