So, that damn Tigger is being rather elusive. Despite intensive Green and Black’s therapy, and okay, I admit, some wine therapy too, the bugger is nowhere to be seen, and I appear to be having a pretty serious relapse. (Oh yeah, my recovery plan is totally on track!)
But something weird is going on – I seem to have found a sense of peace with what has happened and, dare I say, a level of acceptance. I know it sounds ridiculous, but even after all these years, I have always struggled to accept the CFS. I’ve always wanted to fight it, scared that acceptance would in some way be giving in. But this time I feel Continue reading →
I remember when I first got married, a friend bought me a book about how to be a good wife. She was being cheeky: it was a well-known fact that my potential wife skills were non-existent. As a single gal, my swanky apartment had a beautiful Smeg oven that still looked brand new; I had a cleaner, as my time was spent focussing on my career or MBA (too busy to clean, darling).
There was no expectation that once I became a wife, I would suddenly turn into a domestic-muffin-making-goddess, least of all from my husband. Continue reading →