It takes a lot to make me angry. A lot. Perhaps that’s why I’m in the situation I am right now. Stretched out before me is a weekend filled with responsibility, instead of one where I can dictate the rhythm and do as I please. Now that I’m fixed in a 9-5 job, weekends have become extremely precious.

I used to have time during the week to have lunch with a friend, or sneak off to a movie in the middle of the day – freelancing has its serious pros. But now, my week is pretty tied up, even though I’m lucky enough to work from home.

Weekends for me mean waking up a little later, making a perfect cup of coffee and staring into infinity in my garden while the birds chatter about their adventures. And then, I’ve usually planned something – either a long lunch with an old friend, a scary shopping trip to a flea market, a slow and easy trip for food supplies or simply to stay in my pyjamas and read all day. Quiet, peaceful and filled with my own thoughts.

This morning I was woken up by the little person in my life – earlier than I would have liked. Her dad dropped her off because he’s going to a festival I was supposed to go to (but that didn’t work out, so I planned a different weekend).

I’m not at all sure why I was suddenly the babysitter for the entire weekend. Don’t get me wrong, I adore the little person. We have an enormous amount of fun together and the kisses and cuddles I get are worth gold. But the thing is, I wasn’t actually consulted on the whole weekend thing. At all.

I feel like I missed an entire conversation. If I’d been present, the conversation would have concluded with me looking after her for perhaps one night, but not the entire day Saturday and Sunday as well. Thank goodness for the Disney channel, because that’s what’s allowing me to rant right now.

I’m just so angry. I feel I’ve been completely taken advantage of. Maybe it doesn’t sound like a huge thing, and perhaps it shouldn’t because I really do love this little person and she loves me. But, the situation has completely messed up my psyche. I have to get over it quickly, though; otherwise I might be a little less than patient with my charge.

I guess we’ll go to the zoo, or create something deliciously chocolate-filled in the kitchen. We’ll probably go to the park and spend some time on the swings, or climbing ladders and sliding down poles. But that’s not the point. Besides, her parents have loads of other options other than me – there are grandparents and aunts.

I have to make a major shift and get over my fug of discontent –  but for some reason I’m battling to do that. I have to get my mind infused in three year old doings, rather than philosophic and intellectual meanderings.

It’s only Saturday morning and yet Monday looms large because the next time I’m able to ease into my own rhythm again, it’ll be imminent.

Perhaps it won’t rain again today and the world will be filled with joyous sunshine. Perhaps that will lift this mood of angst I’m feeling. While Mickey Mouse does his thing, I’m going outside to consult the birds in the ways of contentedness.