Last night I went to bed to see if I would then wake up feeling happy and refreshed. I lay there until midnight stressing out over two cakes I've got going out this week and next and just worrying in general. So, back downstairs for some rescue remedy and to write a list of all the things I had to do. Therefore I could go asleep safe in the knowledge that everything was written down and therefore on it's way to being done. One relaxation cd later and I'm still awake. AAAAAGh. Feel like someone has gritted the inside of my eyes.
Got up, got kids out, fielded lots of calls about cakes and supplies. Helped to cut up apples, bananas and grapes and helped distribute them to all at Oscar's School (yayaya, they got their third green flag today - they are all drip detectives now!). Legged it home, sourced petal paste and colour and back to school whereupon I was asked if I would do the honours of filming the raising of the flag, said sure, turned to go in and get camera and flat on my fucking face. In front of 400 school kids and god knows how many adults. As I saw the ground rush up I kept thinking 'not the face' but then it was 'aaargh, my knees'. As I sit here typing I am a 37 year old woman with two scabby knees. Yup. No shorts (not that they're really that short) shorts for me for the next few weeks. I fell. AGAIN. IN FRONT OF EVERYONE. Why me? Why is it always me? I have scabby knees and that sucks. Oh, and a scabby thumb. And a scratched chin. Bollox anyway.
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