March 31st 2019

Today was Mothering Sunday and the start of British Summer Time. The day the clocks go forward is historically one of my favourite days of the year, because I just love summer. Winter depresses me but Summer energises me. It makes me feel vibrant and happy and positive. Usually.

Because I went out last night and got very, very drunk, I spent most of today feeling sorry for myself whilst trying to stay awake. We went to my sister’s house for dinner, and I struggled.

I felt fine when I woke up. Confusingly it was almost 9am and I jumped out of bed with a metaphorical spring in my metaphorical step. I went and made my parents a cup of tea, and woke them up with a poor solo rendition of “Happy Mother’s Day to you…” (the singing is not great without my sisters as backup vocalists).

They were surprised to see me up and awake and feeling so sprightly, and to be honest I was too. In hindsight, I was probably still drunk. A few hours later I hit a wall and my hangover kicked in. I did something completely uncharacteristic and quenched my random craving for a sugary drink with a full-sugar bottle of Ribena.

I think Mum had a nice day though, so that’s good. My sister made a lovely lasagne, preceded by a mezze board that, as much as I tried, I could not stop grazing on. For dessert we had a Mum-made tiramisu and together we learnt that my sister doesn’t like tiramisu.

Until tomorrow, Happy Mother’s Day, Mother, thanks for being you.


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