The paradox of not being a child is that life goes both way too fast and also way too slow. It's almost 72h since I finished my most recent work shift, I didn't do anything strenuous, and I'm still aching. Little X had an awfully unsettled day at home following the usual long day at nursery without sleep the day before. Me being at work two days a week effectively ruins five days a week for us. So I've written my resignation letter.
Nursery has told me that she has 15 funded hours per week until the end of the school year, so I'm just going to leave her in and have her attend shorter days. Once I finish with work I should have three more weeks of nursery and I'm using those days to do a deep clean and ready the flat for sale.
Currently close to half way through the "stuff exodus" and I hope to have it mostly complete before work ends. Loads has left which was brand new and worth a fair bit of money, but guess what, I haven't missed any single item, at all. It's just as valuable to me on the sales shelves of a charity shop as it was at my place buried in a box.
Vague victory: after missing their call twice due to them hanging up after one ring, I enjoyed countless transfers and cutoffs today on the phone for 2 hours with the DWP. End result I finally managed to pay my £634 National Insurance top up. 👏 The budgeting advance did turn up 👏 and the UC people have just been in complete silence in response to my "WTF are you doing?". But I have it... and I've spent it, catching up with my maintenance arrears on the flat. So I've updated my list. It's nice to see it shrinking. 💪
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