I wonder how much 130 linear metres of books actually weigh? In the past two days, I've shifted that much, single-handed. Why? Because I don't want to make work for anyone else. I'm knackered. My neck, shoulders and arms are still sore - no surprise there. My head aches too, but that's because at home I've been frantically working to a deadline getting research assignments ready for today.
Major panic - I can't find our E111 travel forms. Excuse me - I'd better start looking properly.
Later, much later ... forms found. Godmother's birthday present wrapped (it isn't for another five weeks but I can't risk either our or her own holiday arrangements preventing us from getting it to her on time!). I have a couple of consent forms to fill in, then I can consider the evening finished. Oh yes, and I was going to do some ironing.
It's official - we're lousy parents. We work - we can't get to the school's end of term service tomorrow morning. No.1 son has assured us that he'll break down and cry in front of the school if we aren't there. Now I feel really, truly guilty - but I still have to go to work. We've tried to get a deputy for SuperSpouse, but there is none to be found. I really do despair of what we can do, when we've explored all possibilities. You see? Only a Pseudo-Supermum. Hiding the truth that she's been a Lousy Parent all the time.