Most days are a little like this

I’m awake.

He’s asleep.

Or tired.

Always tired.

A combination of depression, medication and stress of anxiety at work.

I wish some of my ‘me-ness’ would rub off on him.

I’ve come to terms that, even though i’m magical and do a lot of stuff in and out the house, my magicalness doesn’t stretch that far.

And that’s a milestone of realisation for me.

Onwards and upwards….

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