Not enough day # 1

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It’s been one of those days when it feels as though somebody, somewhere has decided to put life on fast forward.  Consequently, everything seems to be completed on hyperdrive.

The domestic goddess is always coiffured, elegant, stylish, calm and ever so slightly in soft focus.  In my minds eye I am that woman. The reality is I wash my hair 5 minutes before I go to bed and wake up looking as though I have been in battle with a family of hedgehogs.  With no time to ‘coiff’, and less time to arrange a suitable outfit, we fly out of the door in a slightly dishevelled manner having breakfasted on buttered toast, not hot, just damp.

The day proceeds and the layers I have thrown on do not befit the weather, leaving me feeling as though I should have a different wardrobe to choose from.  However, the sunshine always adds an air of positivity, and today is no exception.

I return home briefly, to do things with washing in a vainglorious attempt to get on top of the ever increasing pile.  Whilst throwing washing around, I try and use up some left over food which lingers, unappetisingly, in the fridge.  Instead of managing to put together a healthy late lunch, eaten in a clean kitchen with co-ordinated cutlery, I push the various items on the kitchen table waiting in the ‘to be tidied away’ queue to one side and wolf down a mish mash of something toasted which leaves me feeling fed, but unsatisfied, before once again returning into the fray of other people’s lives.

Things happen and eventually my brood are back in the fold and we eat tortellini.  The type you buy from the fresh pasta counter in the supermarket which takes 5 minutes to cook and sits on a plate, looking like little babies plump elbows.

And so it is, that once again the idea of domesticity and the reality of life, have not danced to the same tune.  On reflection, I perhaps could have made more effort, but just didn’t.  So I secretly vow to take on the time thief and create more delectable plates tomorrow.

 

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