I’m off to London tomorrow. For a whole month. I’m trying to pack all my stuff at the last minute, while the bunny is asleep. I can’t think straight while he’s awake, and right now I’m so tired I can hardly type. I’m sure I’m going to forget something really, really important, like my laptop.

What does one need for a whole month away? The weather’s bound to be all over the place, rain with sunny spells, cold and warm. They don’t make suitcases big enough for everything I think I need, and then there’s the baby stuff too. What the fuck am I supposed to pack for the baby? Bottles? Breastpump? Stroller? Car seat? Sling? Two-way radio? Blankets? Toys? How many diapers should I take on the plane, and how many changes of clothes? I’m completely overwhelmed, and I’m feeling so stressed out, all I want to do is check out, and go and have a pint and a ciggie down the local pub.

Another big source of anxiety is that this time tomorrow I’m going to see the F.O.B. and I’m going to stay with him for an entire week. Just the very thought makes me want to chunder. I have all kinds of horrible fears and feelings about seeing him again after God knows how many weeks. I don’t want to have to go through the same old bullshit about the birth certificate, child support agreement, and all that blah, blah, blah. Only to have him patronise me by patting my hand and telling me: “all in due course, darling” and “I’m just trying to do the right thing” and “What we need to do is ensure that you don’t develop an unhealthy dependency on me”. 

I think I feel a migraine coming on. It’s best not to think about these things, just keep in the moment, one step at a time. Otherwise I might burst a blood vessel.

I’ll leave you with this little snippet as an indication of how my day has been so far. Earlier this afternoon I lost the tube of neosporin. Bunny’s got some funny skin behind his ears, and the doc told me to put some neosporin on it. Only I couldn’t find it, that is until I went to get the laundry out of the dryer and there, to my horror, I found an empty tube. And what’s even worse, is that I put my $200 18th Amendment jeans in there, and now they are completely bolloxed. These are my new post-partum jeans that I live, breathe and sleep in. I take them off only to wash them. Now they are covered in dirty, greasy black splotches from toe to crotch. It’s almost as bad as the day I dropped my iPhone down the toilet, only this story doesn’t have such a happy ending.

I think I’ll go to bed, and try and sleep it off. Do a mad rush pack job in the morning with a clearer head. I’ll be back blogging when I land on the other side.