I wish I was liquid so that I could be everywhere all at once.

Like in that film “Lucy” – where she is forced to take a pill and accidentally becomes so intelligent that she literally becomes everywhere and everything and can see the world as it’s supposed to be.

This would solve all of my problems. I wouldn’t be a tormented-soul like Denzel Washington in every movie he’s ever played. 

Man on Fire – trying to save a little girl but has a drinking problem
Flight – a pilot that saves all the lives of his passengers but has a drinking problem
Taking of Pelham 123 – a train driver with a good heart who holds a terrible secret and took a bribe
and the infamous John Q. – takes a hospital emergency room hostage when he can’t afford to pay his son’s insurance to get a heart transplant
I digress, sort of. 
I am a more pale, less muscly Denzel. The balance between being a mum and having a career feels like the pull between doing the right thing even though you feel wrong inside. 
Sometimes I cannot even begin to see where my computer ends and my son’s face begins. 
Mostly because the lack of sleep is making me curl up into a Snickers ball of sugary delirium where I am efficient and precisely inefficient at the same time. 
Too many thoughts to juggle. The clown is circling my brain leaving piles of crap and lighting my thoughts on fire. 
My days are full of bolded and unbolded emails, the religious checking of the To Do List. Serious faces that want to change the world through data, content and advertising stare back at me like some kind of weird mirror at the circus. 
We matter. We can make a difference with our media! I believe it too, I am a Digital Director by title, the magical powers of media will grow your business. 
My face is smudged. I get a text from my childminder, “Hudson is ill, is it okay to give him Calpol? I’m not sure if you want to come pick him up or not he doesn’t look well in himself and has had very messy poos” 
I can hear my heart churn – I can’t do anything, I’m an hour away so my other half has to go. 
Its 6pm and I’m ferociously try to finish off everything that I can before leaving work. 
I get home and he doesn’t even flinch. He’s with Daddy and everything is fine. 
I try to tuck him into bed but he wants Daddy so I hand him over, heavy, grey and built out of metal. I close up like a steel trap.  
My laptop light blinks at me, might as well do some work. 
And the cycle begins again.
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