It’s Sunday, and I woke up feeling… not new, not refreshed, just slightly less wrecked than yesterday. But my body is telling on me anyway.
Dark circles carved under my eyes.
Stress spots claiming territory on my face.
Legs that feel like lead.
And a heart that feels the same.
Tilly started the day with a sulk—about what, I’ll never know—but then it passed like a small storm and the sun broke through. She brightened, then went off to play with Livvy, and the air felt a little lighter.
We went to Mum’s because she needed help with her life admin (which is quickly becoming my second job). It wasn’t ready—no surprise there—so I just managed the chaos while Tilly distracted herself with my old phone and Pip.
Then, an hour.
An entire hour to myself for the weekly shop.
What a treat to walk the aisles alone, even if the quiet was filled with thoughts instead of peace.
Her dad called to say their flight was delayed.
Of course it was.
Luckily, I’d anticipated this and booked a table for five—me, Joel, his sister Shani, her boyfriend Mark, and now Tilly. It’s not that I mind her coming—I don’t—but I’d been craving that switch-off moment. A proper adult conversation without interruptions. Just a breath of something that feels like me.
Shani and Mark are over for the weekend.
I’ve met Shani once before—she’s lovely, warm, and easy to talk to—and I’m looking forward to meeting Mark. I want tonight to feel light and fun, but there’s this whisper of guilt in me for bringing Tilly along. It sounds awful to say, but I can’t help it. Shani’s a schoolteacher, and the last thing she probably wants is to accommodate a child outside of work.
Still, Tilly is excited.
She’s in my makeup, declaring herself “beautiful,” grinning like the child she still is.
And me? I’m stripping beds, running laundry, and trying to scrape together enough energy for another week at work without snapping in two.
At least it’s Sunday.
At least I have Wednesday off—a small break between my two long days. A tiny slice of respite. A chance to lie in, to breathe, to remember who I am outside the lists and the weight.
I’m holding on to that.
Hoping it’s enough to keep me standing.