Sunday, 13 September 2015

Week 205- birthdays, parties and and Monday resolutions...

I don't know what's more knackering; hosting a four-year-old's birthday party with seventeen of her buddies, or going out afterwards and drinking a metric shitload of Prosecco to celebrate my 37th, having only had a packet of Pom Bears and three Haribos for tea. 

Either way I am broken.

I feel every one of those thirty seven years. 

And look about an extra ten on top of that today.

So this year is the one where I'm going to grow up.

I shall:

Watch the whole of the news. 
Go to the dentist regularly. 
Read classics. 
Eat five fruit and veg a day. 
Stop adding 'arama' and 'amundo' onto the end of words.

But for now I am just going to go to bed before the children and hope I wake up on Monday being able to lift my head without feeling like someone's held it in the world's tightest vice. 

Because as we all know, all good resolutions start on Monday. 

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