Wrapped Up In Books

So, today hasn’t been a great day. Le Homme left at six thirty and given that I’d been tossing and turning since around four, I was going to get up too. And I did. Sort of. I made a coffee, went back to bed and dozed off listening to the Today programme. I surfaced at around nine and then stayed in bed reading “The Ice Cream Girls” by Dorothy Koomson.

It’s insane. If you’d told me two weeks ago that I’d get to hang out in bed reading books all day, I’d have been thrilled. But, it’s just not right. I can’t enjoy anything, I’m constantly distracted by the cold twist of fear in my stomach.

I don’t think I’ll lose my job, I hope I won’t lose my job, but even if I did, I’d be able to look for another one. This constant limbo state is what’s hard to live with. That and the guilt.

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