Sunday, 11 September 2011

Not part two - a brief interlude instead

I am in a hurry again so no time to wax lyrical about the rest of the summer holidays. After tomorrow, things should finally go back to normal so I will have time to catch you up then. You lucky devils.

Thank goodness for you though, otherwise the silence here would be deafening. You see I am sitting here in the silence of the dog house. It is an odd feeling as I have only been here once or twice before in living memory. Naturally it is K who normally feels the full force of the silent treatment for being 'in the wrong'.  I am not exactly sure why I find myself in the doghouse today. I mean, there IS a small chance that I am in trouble because I left the house at 11.30am yesterday to go and celebrate a very good friend's 40th birthday, and as it was a lunch I had assumed I would be back at around 5-6pm that evening and told K to expect me then. He was quite keen that I should 'not be late or pissed'. However, it turns out that once I had a few glasses of champagne down my neck I really was exceptionally keen to carry on the celebrations so I actually walked through the door at around 10.45pm and I was quite obviously not able to walk in anything even approaching a straight line and my volume control was slightly out. I was told to 'shhh' and go to bed more than once as I insisted that he tell me if he still loved me. He clearly does not because he not only punished me by making me get up with the children this moring, but he has also been exceptionally 'frosty' all day. 

I couldn't actually stand upright this morning. Ted, who usually insists on being carried downstairs actually volunteered to climb down on his own and then held out his hand to help out his clearly decrepid mother with the descent. I also couldn't face sorting out proper food for the children so breakfast meant asking G to open a pack of jammy dodgers and share it round in front of Toy Story 3. After an hour and a half I admitted defeat and crawled back into bed which K then mercifully but begrudgingly vacated to get up and properly care for the children and provide them with toast.  I eventually got up a few hours later and by this time the Ibuprofen had kicked in and I was able to set about getting ready for my new WW meeting tomorrow. There are no doubt many things I have forgotten or not done properly due to my sorry state, but, to the best of my knowledge I am all ready to drop the kids off at school in the morning and rush round to unload the car into an empty scout hut and get going. I am obviously VERY worried about it but as it isn't life and death I will try not to lose any sleep over it all.

Even with the painful day I have endured today, yesterday's fun and frolics were totally and utterly worth it. Not only did we have a great meal in a fancy pants restaurant with oodles of fizz, but we also got to spend a good five hours dancing on a patch of grass by Tower Bridge thanks to the genius of something called The Disco Shed. (Shed with a DJ inside - not sure if it was obvious enough). It was all part of The Mayor's Thames Festival which meant there were lots of people in very high spirits and old men dressed up as Elvis who shared in our drunken enthusiasm. We even saw the King of 'Bangers' himself, Gok Wan, who was NOT at all drunk and clearly getting a bit pissed off with being badgered for photos and autographs. I didn't really care enough not to ask him, so I managed to get a picture of him with my birthday friend which made us even happier. I normally get to a point with drinking where the world begins to spin and I know that just one more drink will render me incapable of moving or caring for myself, but yesterday, by some magical twist of Thames Festival mysticism, I never reached that point. I just got happier and happier with each glass of fizz until the end of the night when the six hardcore women who still remained were hugging and kissing (on the cheek - don't be silly) and professing deep and profound love for one another. Somehow we all managed to make it back to the safety of SE23 by getting on to the right train and then getting off at the right stop. We even had all our belongings which is ridiculously fortunate as we left our bags unattended on a picnic rug whilst we spent our happy hours dancing on the grass and increasingly, the mud. (I'm not sure I will ever get my feet clean). 

So what with that, the first week of term and Ted's Second Birthday party, I haven't had time to get on the laptop and write. But, as I have said, this week will see G go full time at school (he started mornings only last week - I cried, he did not), my first meeting out of the way and with any luck a return to the normality which will very soon have me moaning about how dull my life is. I am looking forward to it actually. And to not having a headache. And to getting out of the doghouse. I shall keep you posted. Tarahhh for now. xx

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