World - you can just sod off today I tell you...

I guess in the grand scheme of it, today HASN'T actually been that bad. I mean if you consider the life/death/disaster/loss grand scheme and all that. But it has in fact been a pain in the butt in the niggly, annoying way that makes the tiny hairs on your back stand to attention and drive you to the edge of irritation. Here's a short (but not exclusive) list.

Baby Amabel piddled on the changing mat twice in succession resulting in three changes of clothes before 11am.

Baby Amabel piddled on the changing mat again in the afternoon - fourth change of clothes? Yes. None of these changes of clothes mention the baby puke - I ignored those.

However, baby Amabel vomited on my shoulder missing the muslin no less than three times meaning ALL my jumpers are now in the wash with hugely pukey shoulders and arms.

With the intention to go to town for 'story time' at the Library, I paid for a parking ticket, shortly after dropping all my money from my wallet on the floor - picking it up with a bad back and a wriggly baby in a sling strapped to your chest isn't easy. The parking ticket then blew out of my hand into the stratosphere as I was about to put it in the car. So I had to pay for another one. Except the machine wouldn't take my 10p pieces. Or one of my 5p pieces. So I got change from the cafe next to the meter. Then dropped all my money on the floor again.

Missed the interlink delivery man.

Left the clothes dryer in the garden and it's now raining.

Light bulb blew in the bedroom and don't know where the spares are (not unpacked yet!)

Left on hold for ages to doctors surgery again trying to find out baby jabs appointment time.

I think the council tax people have sent us the wrong bill YET AGAIN but I can't be sure till the man is home.

The yukka plant in the hallway fell off the window sill and tipped soil on the floor.

I dropped the recycling three times on the way to the front door.

I burned my toast.

I had far too many work related emails for someone on maternity leave.

Hmmm...doesn't seem all that bad, but I think on top of the usual worrying about members of the family, being tired, smelling a lot like puke, losing my hair to post natal baldness, realising I'm 40 next month and my plans to be in San Francisco with my best buddies has been scuppered in part by having a baby (which is no bad thing don't get me wrong) and in part by one of my apparent best friends no longer really being one (which still makes me sad on a daily basis)....

Suffice to say I doubt I'll be doing much apart from hoovering up hair to celebrate my coming of age. Bah humbug bleurgh blech crap. Hence the blip of the inside of my bin. Soiled nappies, broken plants and bits of washing line. I think I might hit the Jack Daniels. Perhaps this lovely Wilco song just playing on Radio Paradise and fantasising about being back in Utah might save the day....