I drove home feeling sick, sad and slightly relieved. Unbeknownst to me a group of alpha-bitch school mums (and a couple of dads) had staged a coup that resulted me in being kicked off the school parent’s committee.
I’d been president of the committee for exactly one, traumatic year and spent most of it ducking for cover. There were many poisoned arrows flung in my direction.
I bet you think I’m exaggerating. That Jo Abi is such a drama-queen.
Well I’m not, and any parent who has been on a school committee like this understands that it is perfectly reasonable for me to still be suffering from PTSD rendering me completely unable to attend any meeting at this particular school, no matter how benign.
Salvation came in a few forms. Firstly the time (and money) I’d devoted to the school and the committee was suddenly freed up and I discovered a whole entire life I’d been missing out on such as resting, relaxing, binge-watching TV shows and sleeping.
That’s when I wasn’t doing housework, raising my children and working.
Salvation also came in the form of overhearing a hilarious conversation and a children’s birthday party during which my overthrow was discussed like a plot from Game of Thrones and instead of marching up to them and setting them straight I just giggled.
I was no longer a part of that world and thank goodness for that.
But my true salvation came in the form of a book called Big Little Lies by Australian writer Liane Moriarty and I’m not at all surprised it’s being developed into a TV series by HBO.