I’m a Complete and Utter Mess

Six bags live under each eye. Everyday I notice more grey hairs.

My clothes don’t fit me. All of my favourite jeans are worn out.

My right wrist has some kind of repetitive strain injury. A crunching noise emanates from the shoulder on the same side when I use it too much.

Noises wake me from slumber, yet the sounds are purely in my dreams.

In social situations, I struggle to stay the course. Conversation is usually focussed on one topic, in fact, I now bore people.

Flicking through my Camera Roll shows my obsession with the very thing that’s causing this malaise. Tunnel-vision is creeping in. The blinkers can’t be removed.

5am is now my best friend. 7pm doesn’t even text me now.

Today, I’ve got two scratches on my left cheek. The cheek on my face, that is.

At weekends I’m often covered in crusty, pulped food. I often find it in my ears.

‘What’s wrong with him?’ I hear you ask?

I’m a father to a baby and a four year old.

And I love every moment of it.

Here’s to all the parents out there, especially the Mums. You rock.