I had another mini-meltdown recently. On that subject? Least said, soonest mended, methinks.
Hannah had offered that we visit them, for Friday evening, which chez Gimeno-Palmer means (home-made) pizza night.
We’d have been there like a shot anyway – other commitments allowing – but under the circs (me needing recuperative relaxation and time out), it was a no-brainer.
And in the end we stayed over two nights, instead of just the one. I only hope we didn’t impose too much, or overstay our welcome? It didn’t feel that way. So I’m trusting all is tickety-boo.
Tim’s living with ‘the girls‘ now. And that’s more than fine with us. It obviously changes the chemistry, compared to when we used to visit, and it was just Teresa, me, Hannah, Ali and Sofi.
I had to, or rather, chose to keep off the sauce, whilst all the other adults imbibed. That puts an interesting spin on things. Sobriety illuminates intoxication in a fairly unforgiving.
Sleeping, or not, remains a hot potato. I’d been able to get some Zopiclone prescribed, via ‘NHS’ 111. And that had worked a treat Thursday night. so I took one Friday evening, and once again slept like a log.
My Saturday shift took me back to home turf. I dropped in on Chester, fed and cuddled the wee rascal, and picked up some Valerian tablets. I took one of these Saturday night.
That caused a predicament, re the Zopiclone. I’m now in a quandary… do I take the ‘known to work’ Zop, or chance the possibly just ‘old wives tales’ Valerian? I’m lead to believe the two shouldn’t be taken together.
Whilst at Hannah’s news came through the family WhatsApp grapevine that dad was freaking out again. I communicated a bit with him, Sam and Claire. Not sure if that was wise or not? It certainly ramps up the stress levels. But we are family!