Phew!

Well, I'm breathing again.
Must be at an up bend on the grief cycle eh?

It feels wrong to feel good.
I must have a martyr complex.

So I've enrolled to start my teaching degree - I'll definitely be doing Children's Services III externally through Whyalla and I'm still waiting on news about the Open Learning program for secondary studies.
But if I do both, it should get me half way through my degree and make me eligible to do the degree externally.
It'll also boost my chances of getting part-time, flexible work as an ECW at the Kindy or an SSO at the local primary schools.
I'll still have time to freelance, start some other projects, be a great mum and a half-decent renovator...that's the plan at least. And it's nice to have a plan again.

Before then, I'm going to go see my friend in hospital.
I'm going to hold her hand, make sure she's got a silky pillowcase, decent music, all her personal skincare and I'm going to read her some HILARIOUS books - maybe Kaz Cooke's latest 'Kid Wrangling' book...I know she wet herself over the KC baby book 'Up the Duff'.
I'm going to take her little girl to the zoo and take her husband out to get drunk.

I'm going to buy myself some shoes and a new pair of bathers, maybe a sundress for Christmas, and go sit at the beach with a good book.
And if, occasionally, I feel like crying, there'll be no one to get all panicky and worry about me (love you all though I do).

This week my friends are throwing me a girly going-away night full of giggles, hors douvres and shouting over the top of each other - at least that's what I hope is going on because they won't tell me.
I've been assured that I won't be tied naked to any streetlamps.
But exciting to have a party organised for me instead of by me for once.

Work has taken a backseat, finally, at least in my mind, and I'm taking back the driver's seat...so all is good.
Phew!