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I don’t know how single parents do it. I had to look after both kids on my own for a fairly small portion of today and it was bewildering, terrifying and impossible to keep everyone safe. We all perished. I was very much looking forward to 3pm when I would get a couple of hours to do some of my own chores and also to 2037 when hopefully both of these idiots will be out of my hair and mainly able to look after themselves. And I will be safely asleep in my coffin in my new home under there ground.
Hey look, I know Warming Up is the same every day now. It’s because my life is the same every day. And it’s a living Hell. Those single childless comedians pretending to be so sensitive and unhappy because they can’t get a girlfriend (when they can’t get a girlfriend because they aren’t prepared to commit - I may be speaking from experience), are full of shit. No responsibilities, their world revolving around themselves, living the life of Reilly. It’s the parents who are the edgy ones. Sure, maybe we have some kind of burning ember of contentment, but we have stress, we have exhaustion, we have maniacs running our lives who make Donald Trump look sane. The idea that comedians settling down makes them too happy to be good comedians is ridiculous. The non-settled down ones are just pretending to be unhappy anyway.
What makes us shit comedians is our lives never changing and us being too tired to string two words together.
I am sure I have written this blog before, but in the Groundhog Day madness of having two kids, the other attempts at this day just get wiped from your mind.
My garage shelving had arrived and I was keen to get out there to put it together so I could get that space in some kind order. But I was tired once I got out there at 3 and the supposedly easy to construct system was not perfectly explained and didn’t seem to slot together as easily as promised. It was like big bits of meccano and was meant to click effortlessly together, but it didn’t for me. And a bit got buckled out of shape as I tried to fix it together and the other bits fell apart and I didn’t feel confident that I would construct anything of any strength.
The fact that the manufacturers boasted it was easy and yet I still couldn’t do it was humiliating.
I headed back inside feeling properly depressed at both my ineptitude and the waste of money. Not that I had wasted much. That’s what you get for going for the cheapest option.
I did manage to find some time, whilst Phoebe was watching Paw Patrol, to catch the last episode of Detectorists on iPlayer and it was a very satisfying finale to an excellent three series. The story arc for Simon and Garfunkel was particularly enjoyable. It made me cry about four times, but then I am in an emotionally vulnerable state. Though not as vulnerable as when Love Actually made me feel like I might never stop crying ever again. Maybe I was more unhappy when I was single thinking about it. Highly recommended though. I am picking up a few older shows I never got round to watching via Netflix (on the rare seconds that Paw Patrol isn’t on -honestly Paw Patrol is the Nigel Farage of Netflix and actually not too different than his vision for our country). Plebs is also good fun and diverting entertainment if you find yourself having to look after a baby for three hours straight (per series). Not surprising given the cast and actors.
