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It's
hot and humid, in a thunderstorm kind of way except we don't really
get thunderstorms in Wellington. There's just been a downpour
of rain, but it hasn't lessened the heat at all. It's still and
dark and moist outside. I'm sticky and hot and on edge.
When
I'm stressed, it seems one of the manifestations is an acid stomach,
right in the pit of my stomach, sitting there, boiling away. I'd
had it for at least the last month. It's no coincidence that I've
been working on this one job for that time.
The
shit may be about to hit the fan. And the weather's no help —
it hasn't broken yet, it's all tense and coiled. And I sit here
thinking over permutations and ramifications while my stomach
boils. I hate it when a situation clouds over all you do.
We
had a family and friends of family picnic today. It's one of those
things that I kinda dread, but which usually turn out pretty good.
It was a lovely sunny, hot day, at a park with lots of grass and
a swimming pool. There was probably 20-30 people in our group.
Three of Matthew's cousins were there — Kate, Hannah and
Sam, and we all had a ball. Swimming, playing on the flying fox,
going for walks, chasing each other on the grass.
It's
things like that that are important in life. And when you're too
tired and too stressed to want to go and do that, something is
way out of balance. We keep saying, Deb and I, just hang on, just
keep going, things will ease tomorrow/next week/after Christmas.
No doubt they will, but sometimes the price to pay seems too damn
much.
I
think there will be changes next year. I doubt that both of us
will continue working full-time. It's not a lifestyle we're happy
with. Perhaps one, or both, of us will work from home again. Certainly
we'll have Matthew home at least one day a week — a Mummy
day or a Daddy day.
I
needed to write tonight. Thanks for listening.
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