"Dada. No seven. Six. No more"
As if the guilt from working wasn't bad enough. Had a meeting yesterday which finished late. Was over an hour late home. Greeted by the boy wagging his finger at me. Looking solemn and saying I was home at 7pm. Should be 6pm. And then having it repeated at 15 minute intervals until he went to bed.
Doesn't help that I've been feeling increasingly frustrated by work. Wanted to be working less hours than I am by now. Wanted some time off. But the project has stretched on and not yet reached a conclusion. The ideal of moving to more part-time working seems to stretch endlessly, tantilisingly out of reach. Not helped by having to work late again tomorrow. And I'm going to miss the boy's Make-A-Wish trip to see Mr Tumble on Friday.
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I was thinking of you and your family today... I've read the past few days.. and I wanted to say I'm so sorry that you're tired and all that is happening.. You ARE in my thoughts and prayers... and I'm terribly sorry that you will miss the Make a Wish :( I hope your son has a FANTASTIC time...
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