Hell, it's hard.

Need to do duty at J's playgroup again tomorrow. The thought depresses me slightly. I feel guilty for being like this. As a working mum, should I not be grateful for having a job flexible enough to let me spend time with my son at playgroup?

What really depresses me, actually, is not spending time with my son but being forced to spend time with other people's horrid children at the same time. And having to prepare a three course snack (savoury, fruit, sweet). And having to interact with that psycho amah who's got a love/hate thing going on with my snacks. And having to be civil and act appreciative towards the playgroup teachers. Who complain about the outrageous absence of Danish chicken in their local supermarket. Who has that creepy gentle and controlled yet loveless demeanour. And it's so f**king boring as well.