I’m tired. Like really bloody tired.
Yesterday, I was sick and bloody tired of people banging on about their politic stance. Of people forcing it upon others whether they like it or not (mainly Twitter’s fault).
Last night, I was tired from staying up to watch the news that perhaps life wasn’t going to be quite as certain as we’d first thought.
This morning, I am tired from waking up at 2.50am and making the mistake of checking the lastest election results as they rolled in.
I got a bit addicted with each announcement, and I’m still watching.
The result is pretty much done now; the UK will end up in a hung parliament.
And the pound has dropped through the floor.
Well done, people. Well done.
I make no attempt to hide the fact that I didn’t vote for the contenders. I voted blue. It doesn’t mean that I like all of their policies. I just didn’t think that the other options were realistic or feasible. Not without breaking the economy again.
That said, the nation has spoken. I’m not going to stamp my feet and throw insults around. We’ll just have see what happens.
In a world where we now have no idea what will happen with Brexit or our leadership, there’s always one thing I can reply on… My toddler will wake up early.
So here we are, sat up in bed together.
I’m being terribly British and drinking tea. She is being predictably ‘toddlish’ and chugging her milk away.
Life as we know it might be a bit up for grabs from today onwards, but for now, I’m declaring it a Saturday in our house and enjoying a cuddle.
Sometimes it’s good to be the one in charge (at least of the household anyway).