The spuds are shop bought but the cocktails are homemade!

I think I’ve turned a corner this week. We’re over half way there now and my mood has definitely shifted. I’m still marking the days off on a calendar but knowing the end is in sight and not that far away has improved my humour dramatically.

Least you think everything is rosy in the garden – Himself is back working from home and I’m worn out trying to look busy! Once again he has commandeered the kitchen for his office and sticks to a regimental routine: At his desk by 8.45 am. Tea break at 11 am, not a minute sooner. Lunch break at 1 pm. fruit break at 3.30 pm and clocking off at 5.30 – 6 pm.

This is admirable but he seems to think I should have some sort of a similar routine!

My routine involves a lot of sitting down with cups of tea while I decide things – what to wear to Aldi, what to have for dinner, what to watch on Netflix. With him lurking in the background I haven’t had a minute’s peace.

After bringing the kids to school the other day, I snuck back to bed with a cup of tea only to get caught red handed. He was outraged.

‘Do you do this often?’ he inquired, astounded by audacity and slothfulness.

‘Do what?’ says I playing dumb. ‘Get into bed with your clothes on?’

The truth of the matter was, I had actually put my pyjamas back on but decided it would not be a good idea to tell him that.

‘I only get in while I’m drinking my tea and checking my emails,’ I told him with righteous indignation. That, of course was a big fat lie. If it’s a horrible day and I’ve nothing major on, I jump back in for an hour or more. If you’ve been married longer than a wet day, you’ll know information should be shared with your spouse on a need to know basis.

So to say he is cramping my style is an understatement. Last week I was forced to clean out the fridge, the microwave and the cupboards in a bid to look industrious. My house has never been so bloody clean.

But you know, I’m trying to stay positive. Less than three weeks left and then things can finally go back to normal-ish. He’ll go off to work, I’ll pretend I’ve been cleaning, cooking, washing and ironing all day and that I don’t get a second to myself.

I don’t think he’ll ever look at me the same way again though! He now knows I watch Home & Away religiously every lunchtime, My garlic potatoes are not actually MY garlic potatoes, they’re from the local deli and sometimes I go back to bed for a Nanna Nap!

I do make a good Pornstar Martini though!

SO TO SAY HE IS CRAMPING MY STYLE IS AN UNDERSTATEMENT. MY HOUSE HAS NEVER BEEN SO BLOODY CLEAN