Milky, milky

I am only able to roughly gauge what day it is by what is on TV and even then I’m pretty beggared if it is Hollyoaks, unless it’s with a giant signer in the bottom right hand corner then it’s a good bet that it’s Sunday.

I’ve survived most things with my first week off work Paternity wise although life revolves around 3-4 hour feeds and making up bottles, pouring and measuring one thing into another, zapping items in the microwave and then doing it all over again. It all feels one part Louis Pasteur and another Bio-Hazard expert, minus Outbreak style getup.

I’ve then proceeded to look like I am trying to self harm myself splashing warm milk on the inside of my wrists, not exactly this seasons new aftershave I know, mmmm warm milk. Better than warm sick though, which to be fair there has been very little of.

Obviously wandering zombie like into the kitchen and fridge at silly o’clock in the early morning/late night has all sorts of sleep deprivation effects on you. Several times this week I’ve found Sarah nudging me as I’ve dropped off or been snoring with no knowledge of it occurring until I’ve been awoken from my impromptu slumber.

I had thought that things had got really bad last week though when I thought I had imagined all seven Police Academy movies playing back to back, oh the horror. Thankfully, it turned out to be very real, phew. Thanks Sky Movies Showcase!


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