You know when you’re on the
second leg of a round the world trip after several takeoff and landing delays
and a 6 hour layover in some god-forsaken airport and you’re not even
travelling premium economy, let alone business or first class, and your eyes are
gritty and your brain feels like it’s too big for your skull and your
dehydrated and hungry but your digestive system has shut down because it can’t
eat anymore of those altitude-affected rock hard bread rolls and you’re
sneezing because your immune system is saving itself for more important things
than allergies and you have coffee-breath, but not the attractive kind because
you’ve been doing too much open-mouthed breathing, and you’re skin looks grey
and you’ve definitely put on weight overnight.
That’s how I feel.
Except it’s not because I’m
returning from a fabulous holiday sipping on wine and supping on cheese in the
south of France, but because I’m on the back end of a couple of weeks of a spectacularly appalling sleeping performance by my daughter, Little Miss Q.
My disclaimer here – before
you all tell me to ring Tresillian – is that the poor kid has been turned
upside down of late with travel, late night events and nightmares.
She is a
nightmare, but I also think she’s having nightmares.
Poor kid.
And the fun isn’t going to
stop just yet.
Because we have another out-of-town wedding this weekend.
And Q (being the socialite that
she is), thinks everyone is there just for her - bugger the bride - and at last week's reception finally fell into
an exhausted face-plant on her grandmother’s arm at 10.16pm. (Waking again back
at the hotel for another round of cocktails, then rising at 5am for an early morning post-wedding brunch).
She is made of kryptonite. The
only person that suffers unduly is her dear, doting mother.
Coffee has once again
become my very good friend.
Speaking of…it’s time for a
top-up.
So enjoy your Friday friends,
I hope you have a wonderful weekend.
And if you get too much
sleep, send some my way!
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