I admit it. I'm sulking.
And I've been sulking for a while now. I can't seem to shake it.
I'm trying not to give myself too much of a hard time about being in a moody because our current set of circumstances are entirely unique and never, never, never in a million years would we have ever expected to be sitting here in this situation.
I'm seven and a half months pregnant. We haven't had a kitchen for almost three weeks. We, or more importantly Tilly, has no access to our garden. The house is full of builders and covered in mud and dust and Mr P has only gone all jet-set and is working in New York this week. I am on my own.
Big fat bummer, huge massive sulk.
I know I'm an adult and I should know better but it's all just got to me this week and I can't help it.
I also know I have no right to sulk, I'm a very lucky lady and I have so much wonderful, wonderful stuff in my life but sometimes, just sometimes, the pull to give in to behaving like a child ("its not fair"!!!) feels too strong to resist.
I know I'll feel better tomorrow. I'm sure I will.
I apologise for breaking the "positive blogging" rules but I have to say it's been hugely cathartic to write this post and I do feel slightly better for it, plus I'm having chips for my dinner and that's got to be the best cure for a sulk, ever.