That Joke isn't Funny Any More

The title says it all. The universe is fucking with too many people at the moment. That would include me too.

I have been doing real well at the weekends, trying hard not to succumb to the siren call of the duvet. I have been making huge efforts to get out and about, be a busy bee and ignore any feelings of blah.

Yesterday I visited a little tearoom just down the road from my house. A light lunch with Mr P, to be followed by the usual errands on a Saturday. This little tearoom is in the middle of nowhere and is usually most frequented by grannies out for a drive in the country. It was lovely and cosy and just what the doctor ordered.

The doorbell jangles and the door opens and a woman enters with a 9 year-old and a 2 month-old. No sign of Dad. An older lady joins them. The woman then proceeds to order for everybody and once that is done, sits at the next table, slap bang next to me.

She then proceeds to very elegantly and discreetly breast-feed the baby. I am about to die with longing and jealousy and bitterness. I only wanted to eat my minestrone soup and granary bread and have a nice cup of tea. I just want to curl up and die.

The father of the family then joined them. This is where I really wanted to die. It is one of my ex-boyfriends. The red-haired one. The one before Mr P. The one that really broke my heart into a million pieces. He said we were too serious and he could not handle it. It did not stop him marrying this woman 6 months after we broke up and having 2 children with her, the latest being the 2 month old. Both of them now aged 40.

I turned my head away and ate my bitter soup.