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Who needs professional football. My daughter's team came back from 3-0 down today for a spectacular 3-3 draw and nearly nicked it at the last minute. Incredible game.
I was exhausted after only about 4 hours sleep and the increasing crawl of whatever lurgy I've contracted, but there was no time for rest as it was Ernie's birthday party this afternoon. I set up tables and chairs in a bit of a daze and then let the party look after itself. Somehow I almost dozed off as the kids shouted and screamed as they played party games, though I thought I hid it well as I was wearing my son's Batman mask. There was a Halloween theme so I was mainly a Ghostbuster, but the costume was so tight that I had to get Catie to get me out of it when I needed a wee.
I don't know if there is a worse place to feel ill than a 6 year old's birthday party and if Satan has any sense then this is what Hell will consist of. But I took 15 minutes out to sit in the car and grab the tiniest of catnaps and that gave me enough energy to get to the end.
I was left wondering if a full on stand up tour will be possible if this fairly casual RHLSTP tour is taking it out of me this much and when I got back, Ernie opened all his presents from the party and then I had to retire to bed in the attic (at around 5pm) and didn't reemerge until 6am. I had only eaten four marshmallows at the party (where none of the food was diet friendly, but I managed to steer away from cake and pizza) and then had an apple and some nuts on my return, but was asleep for dinner and subsequently lost an impressive 0.8kg today. Being ill is my diet superpower.
I was sceptical that a 5pm bedtime would work for me and I woke up when the kids were getting ready for bed at around 7.30pm and thought that I'd probably screwed everything up, but I drifted in and out of woozy sleep and though I maybe came to about three times over the night, I really needed that sleep and my body grabbed back on to it.
I had a dream (based on an idea that I've been vaguely considering) where I had somehow time travelled back to 2005 and was in my 2005 body with my 2023 mind and was trying to make sense of it all and worrying that if I changed any of my behaviour that it would lead to my entire life changing and my kids never being born. I hoped it was a dream but couldn't wake myself up. I managed to get the exact date out of one of the people in the pub I was in and it was the 5th of something 2005, but I can't remember the month - otherwise I could check my blog and see if I was in the same riverside pub that the dream took place in. It was pretty scary and I was (as the protagonist of my story is) unable to remember anything that happened around that date so couldn't prove my time travel with predictions or take advantage of betting (I think this would be the case if you did make this kind of time travel) and was aware that the more I changed by doing different stuff, the less likely it was that anything I did remember happening would still occur. I was a prisoner of my own idea and it was not nice. And I couldn't wake up. Until I did, with relief and realised it wasn't real after all.... or was it?
Anyway, Ernie's 6th may be the last big kids party that we have to be organise though (and when I say "we", I mean very much my wife) as once you get to 7th birthdays they become smaller affairs. Well done to the guy who ran the entertainment who kept dozens of kids mainly happy for two hours, whilst at least one of the dads almost slept. He did make me dance to the Ghostbusters theme, but apart from that I can't fault him.
