When Life Hands You Lemons

I'm not even going to pretend.

The last few weeks have been an emotional rollercoaster. And I really want to get off it, pronto.

My Mum is sick. And I'm worried.
Work is stressful. And I'm not coping.
I miss spending time with my smalls.
Some a$$hole broke my rearvision mirror - and 5 others in our street
The kids fetes are on - stress. Baking. Donating. It's never ending.
And Matt's show opens this weekend.
Right this minute, I've drunk half a bottle of wine (yep, way to control stress) and I'm dancing to this.

How are you holding up? For realz, I want to know.
And so what I was going to say is: when life hands you lemons, make a peach and raspberry tart to sell at the preschool fete. Ok? (Trust me, it's easy)

Everybody Just Bounce

Thanks for all your kind words yesterday. I bounced my woes away with a glass or two of vino. And now have a headache.

Here's everybody's favourite songstress ripe for the weekend. BOUNCE BOUNCE!

When I Decide Not To Have a Heart:: Revelation (I am the Tin Man)

This week is one of those weeks that I'd rather sit out it's looking so messy. Even thinking about it makes me stressed and tense. I know what lies ahead. EEK!

We've been looking for places to rent and there seems to be very little.

Working stuff is stressing me.

Running about the city is stressing me.

Even tidying the house is just stressing me.

Stuff is just stressing me.

Dust is stressing me.

I've now decided that if I didn't have a heart life would be easier.

And then in a few years I can take a road trip to Oz and find me some Wizard to hook me up with one when I'm tired of being a heartless beast.

Good things are happening though! Good things peeps. Things to make you happy. To make you headless. To make you giddy right down to the cockles of your heart. Maybe even the sub-cockles.

I'll just give the stressful things a punch in the nose and be done. I have a heart and I'm not afraid to use it.

Stamina

What happened to me? Once upon a time I used to go dancing on tables, night after night. Eat pizza lying on the couch with my best friend. Drink a cup of conversation for lunch. And be ready to do it all over again. Week after week after week. I like to think I was party personified.

But please note, all of the above is written in past tense.

I have to tell you - I am completely knackered. My back aches. My head is tired. I just want to curl up in bed. Is this normal after two birthdays in three days? Or am I just going soft? I'm not even thirty yet.

We spent yesterday morning at the aquarium, and then raced home so I could bake.

And bake I did. Oh and I haven't even told you about how I picked up a baking dish that had been in the oven for 20 minutes at 230 degrees. With. My. Bare. Hands. I didn't mean to bake my own damn hands. That's for shiz. Needless to say, I am sporting some very, very achey breaky sore hands today.

Please get out the world's smallest violin and play a little solo for me.

The worst thing is, I still am not even remotely organised for the par-tay on Saturday. I've barely done a scratch. Someone, send me Martha Stewart. Someone, send me my old stamina.

I've vaguely worked out the menu (thankfully the party is in the afternoon so I have a little more time up my sleeve).

In fact, gulp, I am madly looking for a tiger costume for the Doctor to wear, because his party theme is party animals. Talk about lastminute.com. Straitjacket? Sedatives? Gurney? All sounds good right about now.

Nevertheless, cake was consumed last night, and the Doctor decorated his own. A highlight of the day to be sure, to be sure.

PS - How cool is she? Going to any Sydney Writer's Festival events? Do tell!