A little slice of…

Bread? Cake? Chocolate? Tell me god damn it what are you craving? 

I just want something and I can’t seem to figure it out. 

Pineapple? Cheese? Lasagne?

No. 

Ham? Onion?….

I give up. 

I’m just going to lay in bed til the feeling goes away. 

Baby is sleeping, house is quiet, for now.

I’m just rambling. What has my life become. It’s like every day is just a survival game. Getting through each phase of the test until the final dash to the pillow. And when my head hits the pillow I picture myself standing on a podium waving to the millions of people in the crowd. I did it. I made it through the day. The judge places a medal around my neck. But then suddenly I look to my right, and wait, theres someone else standing in first place. Her hair is perfectly trimmed and coloured, her nails are all the same length and she is wearing her perfectly breastfed baby in a sling on her hip. I look down and see my baby has just vomited all over my already dirty jumper. My hair is frizzier than if I had put my finger in a toaster and I’m wearing makeup from 3 days ago. What’s that smell? It’s poo that has exploded up my babies back while the perfectly smiley baby next to us rest her head gently on her perfectly perfect mothers breasts. 

Suddenly making it through the day doesn’t feel like it’s enough. I need to get up and hang the washing that’s been sitting in the washer for more than 24 hours. 

Na, that can wait. 

Goodnight. 

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