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Hello!

How are you?

Me? I’m great, thanks for asking!

What was that? Am I tired and emotional? NO I AM NOT!

Do I feel jet-lagged, completely overwhlemed and like the world may swallow me whole at any time?! NO I DO NOT!

You guys you may have noticed that the words you’re reading are flying into your eyes at a greater speed than usual. Can you feel them zinging and flinging off your retinas, leaving a trail of glitter and joy as they dance and prance between the screen and your head? Yeah, I thought so!

Friday was my last day on air and I spent it eating nutella donuts at a brunch full of pregnant women, crying and receiving gifts, and most satisfyingly, having a VERY stern chat with those three women from The Bachelor who were rather unkind to… look let’s be honest, most of the other contestants. We had Cat, Aleisha and Romy in the studio first thing, and I think it’s safe to say that I came in at a ten and maintained that intensity all the way through! (You can watch the video here.)

A few of you have noticed that I unfollowed the radio show on Instagram (have you also looked into getting a life?! Jokes guys… but seriously… WHO DOES THAT?!). I told everyone on the team that I’d be doing it; I need to wean myself off that whole situation and completely detach my brain from radio mode, so I’m going cold turkey. Plus, in some respects, it’s kind of like watching your ex move on without you.

So this morning I woke up at 4am on the dot and went to get up. But as I swung my baby-filled body over my pregnancy pillow (which BTW looks like a giant material turd) the wondrous realisation hit that I didn’t have to drive to the radio station.

 

Pregnancy pillow or pale patterned poo?

“Lay back down, Emy. You don’t have to get up,” my husband soothed. And indeed he was right, so I proceeded to sleep until the luxurious hour of 7am. Drunk on slumber, I got up and went in to wake up my daughters for school – yes, it was half an hour earlier than they usually get up, but it’s a new day and a new regime bitches! They were told to make their beds, put their washing out, and report to the kitchen for dishwasher and lunch making duties. They’ve been getting themselves ready for the past year and a half, which usually resulted in me coming home to a bomb site of breakfast dishes, dinner mess, unmade beds and crap everywhere.

NO MORE!

If I am going to be able to work from home, I need to be able to do just that – not spend the first two hours of my day cleaning up their crap. Look, I admit they weren’t exactly fans of the new system, but real talk: they don’t have a fucking choice. Firstly, there’s a baby coming (guys did you know I’m pregnant?! I know I really should mention it more). Secondly, I have a shit tonne to get done before the end of the year, and finally, because this is a dictatorship plain and simple! Just call me Emelia Berlusconi – only with less prostitutes, super yachts, embezzlement, and total and utter corruption.  (Silvio Berlusconi is the former Italian PM who pretended he believed in the democratic system but really didn’t. Instead, he indulged in a glam rock star lifestyle at the expense of his long-suffering wife and the Italian people for many years. My assistant Lucy said I had to explain who he is to you as she’d never heard of him, but I assure you all it’s a hilarious and accurate reference, and it’s her fault for being culturally void.)

Now I must away, as I am a working-from-home Mother-type, so there are naps to be had and books to avoid writing.

Oh, by-the-by, my community pins go on sale tonight. You can read more about them here, but I thought it would be a cool way for you all to connect IN REAL LIFE. I know guys, it’s a revolutionary thought!

Have a great day you sexy jerks, and we’ll chat soon.