Tuesday. I have the worst night’s sleep. I struggle to get to sleep at all, and then wake up constantly during the night. On the plus side, my overworked brain comes up with an excellently mind-bending plot for a time travel story. On the lesser side, I’m too exhausted for a morning shift so I just have to hope the idea stays in my head long enough for me to write it down later. Back on the plus side, I don’t think I’m ill any more, but I feel so terrible from the poor night’s sleep that I can’t really tell.

I go to work for a couple of hours, and then have to leave briefly to ferry the Elderbeast from his school to another academic extension class he’s taking. I’m already feeling the grump from lack of sleep, but he truly awakens the beast when he tells me that he’s left his work folder at home.

I’m displeased about this because earlier this morning I asked him to make sure that everything he needed for his afternoon class was in his school bag. I knew everything was in there because I’d put it in there the night before, but I’m trying to encourage him to take responsibility for his own crap because for the last two weeks I’m the one whose forgotten to put it in his bag for him. So, in checking whether his folder is inside his bag, he has managed to transfer his folder to the outside of his bag and left it on the table. It’s lucky that I left work extra early to make sure that he wasn’t late for his class since we now have to go home first.

Then, despite having checked the route beforehand, and asking the Elderbeast to keep an eye on the map for me, we manage to go past the road we’re looking for by a considerable margin (like, over 2km). I get back on track, and get the Elderbeast to his class on time, but decide that today is definitely the day of death by a thousand fucking annoying cuts.

Back home, and my latest batch of settlement papers have arrived, which require both mine and Rachel’s signatures, and also require ID verification. I can have this done at my local post office, but at a cost of $40, or I can use another service and pay $50 instead. I decide it’ll be easier to just go straight to the settlement agent’s office next week and sign the papers there. Once again, I’m appalled/impressed at the ways in which so many other organisations are able to cash in from the collapse of my marriage.

I spend the evening writing up some notes for my time travel story, and updating my diaries. I then head to bed at the earliest available opportunity.