And still waiting

I am posting this as I am waiting for the nice man from the electric company to ring me back.

I am shattered, really and totally shattered. Little bear had a nightmare that meant that he needed a vast quantity of cuddles, and then I was woken up by reflux, or I think it is called that, where acid rises in your throat. It took me a time to get back to sleep after that.

So this morning I went back to sleep after providing little bear with breakfast etc - and I was reassured that though it felt like a deep sleep I was still up and standing next to him in 0.2 seconds when he was upset that Daddy hadn't noticed him waving. I know it wasn't actually very long, because I got to the window between OH getting in to the car and OH driving off, so I was able to bang on the window so little bear could have another wave. OH is really good about giving little bear his needed cuddles.

So I am crawling along, tired, most of the morning and severely upsetting little bear by refusing to sort his Dr Who cards for him - there must be several hundred of the dratted things, all sorted by strange rules devised by little bear - are the cards boys or girls? Goodies or Baddies? Then I drag him off to nursery.

I feel very tired, full of heartburn and low. This afternoon I have managed to book a survey for the fire, book the nice man to paint the windows, polish the sink (it was cleanish but stained), take in the Asda Delivery, cancel a magazine subscription, research another one, pay a bill or two online and cancel the nursery direct debit (last Monday for little bear today). I have finally managed to read the meters and have hit a 'snag' trying to provide the reading so the nice man is ringing me back. I have found time for a cup of gossip at the local shop, and a lot of browsing. I have also got tea ready to be switched on. It is only (bought) lamb burgers and mash with beans, but it means no takeaway. A takeaway almost never costs less than £10 for all of us. This, with the posh bought burgers, the end of the posh potatoes and a tin of beans comes in at well under half of that.

Not bad for lack of sleep, awful acid coming up, heartburn, raging pmt and no antidepressants for the last month. However Nice Mr Next Door is doing better - he is working through flu!

Also, the new gas meter was fitted in April. I have finally read it. But is it too late to complain? The awful man has fitted it so that it is impossible to read unless you are lying on your tummy. This is not an option for all of us. Hmm. I shall think about that.