Bad Days Not Permitted.

Have you ever had that feeling that you’re just not allowed to have a bad day? I mean, I’m a mum, and I know that mum never really goes off duty, but today, I wish I was allowed a bad day. That I could just shout and cry and sit in a corner and say rude things to anybody who came near. Except for those delivering foamy hot chocolate. I want to growl at the cat and swear at the housework, and wake up tomorrow with everything as though today had been a good day.

The trying grinds me down. The knowing that there will always be some element of this to my life can make all the joy leak out my bucket. The very things that inspire me are often the things that drain me completely. The simple repetition of housework can be soothing and allow my mind to work out solutions o problems, or ensnare my cogs in a maddening jumbled mess. It takes a bit of conscious effort to enjoy my housework, you see. And when you don’t have much energy left? Well, it all becomes a self defeating circle really.

Which makes me want a bad day without consequences. Because I know I can’t really have a bad day. Little Person needs me to help her with her homework. Even the cats follow me around, jumping on my lap in attention-seeking neediness. I have only just caught up with the laundry pile, if you define “caught up” very loosely. But there are people in the world without laundry, because the only clothes they have are the ones that they are wearing. And there are people who would love to have the problem of a child’s homework, as each month goes by and reminds them that they have no children. I know that, and I do not make light of that at all.

But that kind of logic doesn’t always wash with me, because there’s a fallacy in there somewhere. Just because there are worse problems than mine, doesn’t mean that my problem doesn’t exist. Just because there are children starving in Africa, doesn’t mean we should ignore the hungry in our own country. And just because I have all the material things I need, doesn’t mean that I have no problems at all.

The Dude pronounced to me yesterday that I have a voice. And he’s right, I do. I have a voice to say that today I am having a bad day. Today all the caring, and fixing, and loving, and cleaning and washing has caught up with me. So I will be sitting over there in the corner, imagining that there are no bad consequences to this day.

Bring me hot chocolate.

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