My perfect, wonderful, cosy, fluffy life.

I guess I should write a little bit more often now when I have started a blog. But every time I have been thinking of sitting down and write it has felt like I haven't had anything to come with. And can I write about things that wouldn't make people happy? I mean moan a little bit, is that aloud? It feels like everyone is writing about things they have done with their wonderful children, how cosy it is going to be on the friday night with everyone snuggled up on the sofa, how much popcorn thay are going to pop, how they made the most luxurious breakfast with american pancakes on the sunday, how wonderful and cuddely everything is, thank's for everything, oh what a perfect kids party, worlds best friends, girlie dinner with cosy wine, heart, heart, heart, everything is so cute, I love everything, everybody loves me......

I am doing things with my wonderful child too, but it isn't always that wonderful. Is it just me who has a child who not always is cuddely, cute and cosy? It is like having a little bomb after you, a little grumpy madame who doesn't want to cuddle on the settee. But hello, Poppy, it is friday and we have to cuddle otherwise mummy get's embarassed because she can't upload her cosy status on facebook.
My daughter is the most beautiful girl in the world, but sometimes I think she is a little troll child. How can my child get so angry? Make so much noise? Scream so high? People must be thinking that she is spoilt. That she always has her way. That I am a bad mum. Right there and then I really don't think that she is that wonderful. Is it aloud to think like that?

Me and Poppy were going to make cup cakes. That is very cosy and cute. Up until the sticky mixture ended up on the carpet. Our kitchen is very small, and I really mean really small. So small that only one person can be there at a time. With other words not a nice, perfect family kitchen where we can cook three course meals on cosy friday nights. So due to the mini-kitchen we were now baking on the dinner table in the front room where it is carpet on the floor. Whisk, whisk, whisk. Screeeeeaaaaaam and splat. Then the cosy baking time was over. The only thing left was the little bag with the small, cute, pink and light yellow stars that we would have sprikled over the top. Oh, how perfect and sweet everything felt like when I was laying there on my knees trying to scrape up our cosy try to bake from the carpet. And Poppy who was screaming so angry and cute in the background.

My life is perfect. I am unemployed. I really do think it is super nice to just sit on the settee and getting sweaty of having half of a panic attac because everything feels so wonderfully endlessly hopless. I have such a cosy time when I walk around with all my cv's and filling out applications on internet. It is wonderful to have applied for more than 20 jobs and haven't heard anything back from one single application. It feels so cuddely to walk around in stores and see funky stuff which I can not buy, so perfect to have a few unpaid bills laying around. It feels wonderful to spend yet another day waiting for the evening to come so that I can go to sleep again and wake up the next day that hopefully will turn out to be a better day.

And obviously I have a perfect relationship. We never ever row about silly, stupid things. We are always super cute and cuddely. We have interesting conversations, give eachother breakfast in bed and everything is fluffy and shimmering of pink. hahahhaa.

On thursday something seriously good and very fluttery happens. I am going for my second interview for a full time job. I have been selected as one of three persons who has passed the first sort of screen interview and are now going for an interview at the head office. And I WILL get this job. If I don't get to work soon I will seriously freak out. It feels like I have got cabinfever from sitting in the flat.

And why wouldn't I get the job? I mean, I who am so wonderful, cuddely,perfect and cosy......hehhehe.