Tag Archives: tired

Daylight Savings Time + Toddlers

Ahhhh, the dreaded clock change that happens twice yearly…. that sacred extra hour you usually get in bed…pre parenthood.

WORST WEEK OF MY LIFE PEOPLE!!!

Babies apparently don’t appreciate this annual gift we are given of extra sleep, in fact, not only do they reject the gift, they completely ignore it, choosing instead to get up at the usual time (now an hour early) the joyous hour of 5am. Fuck the worm, I have never been a morning person. I choose to be a late bird, why oh why did my son not inherit this precious piece of me?!

This was genuinely me trying to get out of bed at 5am to get the boy this morning.

200

The thing is, he is doesn’t just affect the morning its also affecting the evening. Instead of going to be at 7, like normal we get to half past 6, and he goes all

angry

Its horrendous. We have tried everything from distraction, to TV, to extra milk, and out and out bribery! nothing is working. So tomorrow we have asked friends to come round to try and distract him between half six and 7, in the vague hope ‘new faces’ might be exciting! sigh. My caffeine intake this week is actually offensive!

Anyone else suffering with Daylight Savings Time?

33 weeks – advice needed

Advice needed.

I had a funny turn this week – went all pale and sweaty and ghost like, and I nearly fainted. I got sent home from work and worked from home for two days.

I feel exhausted – like totally utterly and completely drained. I want to cry every morning trying to get out of bed and force myself to work. I sit at my desk and I can feel heavy weights dragging the bags under my eyes lower. I am exhausted to my bones, to my soul, my very core.

I really feel like the funny turn was probably exhaustion related. In fairness I have changed job, moved house – fully redecorated the entire house, started and completed a dissertation and a huge work submission all whilst being pregnant and the only time off ive had is 5 days (2 of which were a weekend) when I was ill. So I haven’t really had any time off so I am not surprised I am unwell.

But heres the thing, I have 4 full weeks left at work and I have to go in for one day for a big work conference a week later – that’s compulsory. But I feel like my body is giving up.

I could leave work a week earlier…. I could. I am due to leave at about 37.5 weeks but I could leave around 36 if I shifted a weeks leave from the end of my maternity to this side. But the thought of doing that makes me feel like a failure, I feel like I would be failing the baby before he even got here, giving up a weeks worth of time with him, to rest. I cant seem to get my mind out of that mindset… it just seems wrong.

I don’t really know what to do.

I have a weeks leave to play with, I could work 4 day weeks for the next 4 weeks, or I could split the hours and work 2-2.5 hours less a day – but that feels like a waste – like I am not really getting anything from using a whole weeks leave. Or I could leave work in 3 weeks instead of 4… or I could just man up and leave when I planned too in 4 weeks time…

What should I do????

I am "Sleeping Breasts Sacha"

exhausted1

Four Weeks &  Six Days

I don’t sleep, not usually! but boy am I tired at the moment, seemingly all I can do is zombie my way through the days and sleep, sleep, sleep the rest of the time.

I mean I took a fricking nap today! whaat?!

Usually I get 6 maybe 7 hours sleep a night, max. Sleeping is for the dead, feels like a waste of life. So I try to sleep just enough to get by. But now, oh boy, I’m napping here, napping there, feeling exhausted basically always, I am guessing this will continue for the next 20 years?!

I feel like I am already changing my perspective on life, I am slightly concerned that I might be lonely because none, and I do mean none of my friends have kids, they are all a few years younger than me, and are showing no interest in anything other than getting shit faced at the weekend. I had a search for some pregnancy antenatal classes in the area and there are a few, so I guess when I hit the second or third trimester I will try and go to some of them to meet expectant mums.

The other couple of symptoms are a little cramping like a period, but it’s fairly mild so I am guessing its just uterus growth, but by far the worst symptom I have at the moment is my breasts!!… apart from the forgetfulness so if I have already blogged about this then forgive me!

My boobs are so big and so swollen, I have already had to go bra shopping!!

I have turned into one giant sleeping boob!!

speaking of which… is it nap time??

zzzz ZZZzzZzzZZZZzZzzZZ

Friday Fails…

Everything anyone has ever said about weddings is true. Especially the come down.

I genuinely had the worst case of man flu that has ever existed….True story!!

I felt particularly sorry for myself, but I have now sucked it up, manned up,  and I am well on the road to recovery.

That is, except for the extreme exhaustion I am still feeling. This is a whole other level of exhaustion, it’s some kind of nasty life sucking, energy draining beast.

I can’t even think clearly, I am desperate to blog properly again, but I can barely drag… and I do mean drag myself out of bed, let alone blog. Whatismore, for medical reasons I am having to withdraw from caffeine…

This has led me to do a really good impression of death warmed up right now, I am also throwing in a pinch of the lights are on but no ones home just for good measure. I am not functioning. I don’t understand sentences, I cant text and this blog will ruin me for at least a few days!! 😛

Basically I am so tired I am totally incapable of doing anything… Apparently I am not young enough to do a typical Sacha and burn the candle at both ends and in the middle, and get away with it. I am paying a steep price… I look like the kid in the picture!!

 

Today was an epic failure, but Friday was so so much worst.

Friday…

Actually Thursday night…. We went for dinner with some friends and the usual Gran Canaria pride chat  came up again. After much discussion it was decided that like this year we would all go.

This year was epic, there was a group of about 10-15 of us that went, and it was genuinely one of the best weeks of my life. Anyway. I go to book the hotel, pay for it, and then realise I have booked the wrong dates. Fuck.

I ring the hotel in Gran Canaria, try to have a Spanglish type conversation and establish that its too early and I need to ring the travel company and sort it with them. Which I do and just about get it sorted after some serious fannying about on their behalf.

So I search for flights but can only find flights for the furthest airport away from us. ugh. But decide that I would rather book early than wait for the price to go up just so I can get a closer airport.

I book the flights, and go to bed happy.

Friday morning…

I wake up seriously bleary eyed and had to forcibly rip myself from my cosy warm bed and into the shower. Whilst I am showering I realise that I feel like something is wrong with the booking.

I pick up my mac and open the receipt page for the booking, everything looks fine. I open up the web page to manage my booking and to my horror, they have messed up my surname… (we have double barrelled btw). So I am particularly irritated at this point already seeing as I fucked up booking the hotel. I ring the stupidly expensive phone line and get half way through sorting the problem and the phone gets cut off.

RAGE.

It is at this point that I look back at the web page and utter horror washes over me, as I look at the dates.

I booked the wrong fucking dates.

How did I do that?

HOW CAN I DO THAT????…. twice?? for gods sake.

I go back to the search page just to make sure I am not going insane and I did actually search for the right dates its just the piece of shit web companies mistake for showing the wrong flights… and possibly mine for not double checking. *cough*

At this point, I am having to really suppress Hulk back down. I am also  late for work, have no caffeine, no breakfast and I need to ring the company to sort this out.

I get on the phone to one of them and they tell me to ring the airline direct.

More rage.

The airline tells me thats no problem they will change the dates and my name and wipe the admin fee… but the flights are more expensive. like £90 more expensive.

Not happy.

It is at this point I am now REALLY late for work, and I go to gather up my bag and stuff for work. I get flustered because I have had no breakfast and now cant find my wallet.

The wife rings… “Babe I just found your wallet in my car… do you need it?”

RAGE.

Of course I need it. So instead of going to work, I have to drive to her work to pick up my wallet first.

I check my diary to make sure I am not going to be late for a meeting and just my luck I have a 9:30am meeting booked in. Luckily its with someone who is ALWAYS late, or just doesnt turn up. Plus they didnt accept the meeting request, so I am pretty sure that they wont be coming.

I run into work throw my laptop on the desk and ring the guy I am meant to be meeting, who of course, today….is waiting for me in the canteen. Fuck.

So I have to run to the canteen, I get three quarters of the way there and realise I left the single most important piece of paperwork I needed in the office. At this point I am sweating and flustered. So I have to bolt back to the office rifle through a mountain of papers just to find one thing!!

When I get there. He has the smelliest, most tasty looking coffee, and I am beyond envious. withdrawal is not fun.

The last fail I managed to rack up on Friday was epic on a huge proportion.

I like to think of myself as technologically ‘with it’ I know how to use most technology without being told how, I like techy things, and generally I am very careful about which profile I use to say what.

Apparently, not when I am tired.

I managed to tweet my boss from my Sacha_black profile without realising, and inadvertently gave him access to my blog, my twitter, my rants… everything. #fml.

I just need to sleep. But my cats like to see to it that they get fed at ridiculous o clock in the morning, or let out, or in, whenever they see fit even if its at 2,3,4 or 5 am.

Even my work mate turned round to me today and said…

“mate… dont take this the wrong way… but you look like shit!!”

Great.

F**k Monday

Mondays are shit.

I really REALLY hate Mondays, but today was a particularly repugnant Monday.

I am not a morning person at the best of times, but Monday mornings, WOAH.

Forget, conversation, in fact, forget expecting to see my eyes open. Until it’s at least 11 and I have managed to cradle a coffee.

Mondays are hideous, they are cruel, particularly unkind, in fact vicious, and completely unforgiving.

Mondays are by far the worst day of the week, except maybe Tuesdays, which on occasions can be even worst.

This morning was no better than any other Monday morning. I woke up… barely, I struggle so much with mornings, being a night owl, I find them pointless, yet I try and force myself awake to get to work early so I can finish work early  to miss the traffic and get the whole evening to myself.

So I woke up, just.

I was so far beyond tired. My face was basically falling off, I had bags the size of cars, and my eyes felt like they were bleeding when I tried to tear them open, and force the sunlight into them.

Monday… you have just finished a weekend, which inevitably wasn’t long enough and now you have to face and ENTIRE week of work, 105.5 hours until, 4:30pm on a Friday when the weekend begins again. Tuesday isn’t much better, because its not like you can say it’s half way through the week like you can at lunch time on Wednesday, plus you can’t blame being asleep or not paying attention on the fact it’s Monday-the first day after the weekend. Hate Tuesdays just as much! But that’s another story.

Anyway, so I shower, and get ready half asleep, and then I am so tired, I am hugely grateful that I packed my bag and made lunch the night before. So I climb back into bed to catch another seriously precious 20 minute snooze.

I get woken up 15 minutes later by the most irritating sounds EVER. Some game the gf has decided to download at ridiculous o clock in the morning and can’t turn the sounds down. Firstly, its Monday morning, why would you be downloading an app, and playing on it? And secondly why would you do it, lying next to me, when I am clearly trying to nap, fully clothed? So it’s fairly obvious I am struggling. Anyway, I politely explain that I am trying to get some sleep and she gets in a mood with me, and tells me how noisy I am in the morning ALWAYS waking her up.

Which can I just point out is not entirely true. I am incredibly clumsy which she knows, but I try my best not to wake her up.

Anyway, she is now in a mood with me, because I am in a mood with her. Why do lesbians do that?

She huffs off to have a shower, and as I have just started to doze off again, the vile sound of the alarm clock goes off. I have to FORCE myself out from under the covers and into my shoes.

After managing to get to work early, I realise that I have an ‘early’ pre 9am meeting that I completely forgot I had, luckily theres no cue for coffee and I think the days looking up.

Alas not.

I then have to shuffle in an out of meetings barely having enough time to catch up from all the emails I missed on Friday, so manage to get nothing productive done at all. Then I realise I have to give a board report tomorrow. Which I clearly haven’t given a seconds thought to. *note to self* must remember to practice later.

Then I try to pull together a to do list, scratching at my brain to remember last week, which then reminds me the house insurance is going to expire any day now and the cat insurance needs renewing. I daren’t even look at the wedding to do list.

The day flies by because I am so busy, and then I get to the gym. I am at this point slightly concerned I have put on a couple of pounds recently. So I have a renewed motivation to lose weight, can’t think of anything worst than being disappointed with myself on my wedding day for having not tried hard enough to get to my goal weight.

I climb reluctantly onto the scales, to see the damage, convinced its only a couple of pounds. HA, well wasn’t that a nice little fuck you from the scales. EIGHT pounds. EIGHT. I was/am mortified.

How the hell did I put on over half a stone in a month? Well that’s it. I roast myself in the gym, and head straight to the supermarket to buy the entire healthy aisle. Which, might I add, is the most expensive aisle in the shop. Why is healthy food so god damn expensive? NOT happy.

I get home, with a million things on my lengthy to do list, to find a nice gas bill for 75 quid, that I clearly don’t have spare. Nice.

Well f**k you very much Monday, see you next week.