OK, this is proof it has to stop.
Last night I woke up around 3 am. The sheets were damp. My heart was racing. It was all so real.
My worry? I had a blog somewhere that I needed to update. I just couldn't find it. I couldn't remember what clever name I had christened it. Tired Mummies? No. Mummies on the run? No. Mums on Medicine? No. No. No.
Oh, where was it? I knew it must be in need of a new post and it must be time to respond to comments. Where, where, where?
I often have these kinds of nightmares. When I was at University, I waited on tables to help pay my way. Then I used to have waitress nightmares -- my whole section was seated at the same time and they all ordered teas and soup. It also included loads of tables with small children and frantic mothers asking for something for the kids and I had to explain that we had run out of saltine crackers.
So what am I doing today? Thinking of launching three more blogs ... Perhaps I'll take the girls swimming instead.
Photo credit: Thomas Hawk
