The perils of drinks out and salad.


I have just had a lovely, grown up weekend spent in the countryside (at a friend of my partners) in a very oldy worldy and beautiful house. Picture Shakespearean as it is the village where Shakespeare’s mum lived (allegedly).

 However , I am still trying to redeem myself after thinking it was a perfectly good idea to go on a night out after only eating a bowl of lettuce all day. Needless to say, after just a few drinks, I was ready to be put in a taxi and taken home ! Luckily , I was quite a contained little drunk person so not too many people noticed. Yet, for my partner it was a different story. It became his responsibility to co-ordinate getting home , which was down a very windy and bumpy road (perfect!); Getting me to release my vice like grip/ hug combo around the toilet and get me to bed fully clothed before everyone else came back. Thankfully he managed all of this, with a lot of protest from myself as a refused to leave my new favourite place in the world for that night aka . the bathroom. I also showed a complete lack of remorse for ending his night out early and instead cried because I didn’t like the feeling of feeling sick…I think that the alcohol temporarily affected me priorities, as well as my co-ordination. I did, however, wake up with huge panda eyes and my tights on underneath my PJ’s .I think the talents of my boyfriend stops with the little details, like using face wipes or removing tights, but I guess that is a small price to pay for getting too drunk.

I then had to try to make up for this the next day by getting up before anyone else and acting like a magic house cleaning fairy so that when the others surfaced later everywhere was astonishingly tidy. I then tried to act as mature as I could to ensure that my partner’s friends did not think that I consistently went out and had to be taken home early, which I can assure you I do not.

 After helping to prepare a chicken and gravy pie, with extra trimmings, I think I just about managed it. They do say a way to a mans heart is via his stomach but I will find out if this is true  if I am politely missed off the invitation to the reunion….

Next night out I shall be having as many carbs as I can manage, just to be on the safe side.

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