A Most Enchanting Romance

It is early morning at Babington house, the world outside is foggy. I am sitting on my favourite pink sofa. I love to come work here. Lulu is curled up next to me. I didn’t forget her blanket this morning, so she is lying up on the window sill. My tea is steamy, and I ordered a croissant.

The fire is gently burning. I should be in heaven.

But instead, the world feels like it’s crumbling around me, and I know—I KNOW—that I am probably just being hormonal, sitting here, questioning the whole meaning of my life. I know, but I can’t help it. 

Right now, I hate my life and I hate my choices and I hate my—well, I don’t hate my husband and my dog, but seriously, they both could do better.

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NEUROTIC DOG INTERLUDE

Is my dog going through doggopause? She that used to be so adventurous, daring and relaxed on any occasion now freaks out when she’s in the car, to the point where the other day, as I was driving, she crawled under the seat and then popped up between my legs, which could have caused the M…