So nope, I sit here as the early bird deals open on all my favourite store sites. And I look longingly at the 4 lemon juices for R30, the half price camping chairs and the two bottles of Russian bear for R300 and I sigh deeply.
What you are reading is what my brain does when it is overloaded with nonsense. I am venting, to everyone. Forgive me. But I am gonna verbal diarrhoea on you, even against my better judgement.
In order to remain respectful, I will not reveal this person’s name. From here on out I will only refer to him as ‘Naaier’.
Welcome to my TedTalk.
And yes, I have the receipts.
So, at 5.30am, I stopped my car outside of the corner shop. From my back seat, I could have sworn I heard laughter. The laughter sounded young; adolescent. I decided I must have heard something/someone from outside the vehicle, and as I let my passenger in, my stomach dropped, as I was overcome with a feeling of nausea and dread. “Hello Shana”, she said.
To summarise, the urge to shake my daughter to death and put her in the oven isn’t one that I would like to wear on my sleeve. I constantly have the daydream where I forget her in the car. I keep seeing myself drop her from the bed.