The Missing Minutes!

Heyy, 

After what felt like the longest week for quite some time (and to be fair it was since I had taken a day off making the last few weeks a four-day week) I was more than happy that it was a bank holiday weekend and with an extra day to spend trying to do up our small flat. Last weekend I spoke of finishing work early on Friday and went to collect some house things before heading to Basingstoke for Miss Tweedle-Dumb's Wedding. Following a long search for a property on budget as well as allowing dog's, Mr Warehouse and I had looked and viewed a few properties in the last few months that ticked all of the boxes. The only problem that we seem to come up against was the fact that the majority of these properties were very run down or poorly kept meaning we would have to put in a lot of work to a home that was not ours, something that at the end of the day we could quite easily do in the place that we have here. So we thought why not!? OK so our flat is small in comparison to the two-bedroom house with Garden and parking I wanted but I would say that our flat is still on the large side. And so after having several meltdowns over the last few weeks about where Mr Warehouse and I live, a combination brought about by the safety and security of the property (or the lack thereof), not to mention what seems like a complete lack of empathy or activity at all from the landlord. 

But before any painting wallpapering or decorating could get underway I had been booked in for a night out with some old work pal's, you remember them - Miss Hackney and Miss Sugarcoat. The night started well as the three of us had planned to go for a cheeky Nando's with our other halves before heading into the infamous Bedford town centre for a good old fashioned knees up. I would never have thought that the night would have ended in as tragically as it did. With Nando's fully booked and with a queue out the door Miss Hackney, Miss Sugarcoat and I thought that it might be a good idea to go to another restaurant a couple of doors down. A Turkish restaurant called Nazar was somewhere that we had presented before and to be fair had quite nice food. As we sat down and ordered drinks I thought about how this was the first time Mr Warehouse and I had been out for a meal in quite some time after trying to save for a house. Nevertheless the company was enjoyable to say the least with Miss Hackney, Miss Sugarcoat and a friend of Miss Sugarcoat's in place of her girlfriend. Miss Hackney had recently split from her most recent fuck-boy and Miss Sugarcoat and I were hoping that her friend might provide Miss Hackney some "comfort". 

With our meal taking slightly longer than anticipated due to the fact they forgot about Mr Warehouse's order, we headed to one of the many bars along Bedford main High Street for a drink with Mr Warehouse before he departed to go home. Unfortunately my dearest boyfriend was working from 6am the following morning so was probably best if he didn't have a late one. After a couple of cider's outside in the newly refurbished beer garden of the pub he left us to our night. And I can only assume that it was from this point onwards that it all went downhill. With Miss Sugarcoat buying us or a round of Jagerbombs I struggled to keep it down. Luckily I had a Chaser drink of the half bottle of wine that Miss Hackney and I were sharing. And that continues throughout the night, nothing more, nothing less just wine and I think maybe the odd glass of Prosecco. Unlike normal I was certainly not drinking any shots spirits or even cocktails. Just Wine. How I was so wasted on such a small amount I will never know. I remember everything up until the point of which I left the club. I remember everything from the previous two bars and pubs we had been into and even remember having to pay to get into the club and being in there. I clearly remember at one point and for some unknown reason that I still don't quite understand I just thought I want or need to go home and with that picked up my bag and left not even saying goodbye to Miss Hackney or Miss Sugarcoat. 

I remember walking through the fellow clubbers. I remember vaguely walking down the stairs and seemingly out of the venue. I do not remember how but some way I ended up at the taxi rank, across the road and down the road a bit on the corner. Hazily I remember standing and waiting for a cab outside the rank. I think I remember getting in a cab and sitting in the back passenger seat. After that I don't remember anything at all even to this moment now. Normally, as most of you know who read along regularly and from some of my earlier party animal days, that I remember everything from a night out. Every gorey detail. Every alcoholic drink. Every dude that I used to get hit on or hit up on. Every. Little. Thing. 

Its not clear but I faintly remember feeling sick and knowing if I threw up in the cab that it would cost me dearly with a fine for the clean-up, and so weighing up the options in my drunken stupor I thought that being violently sick in my Ted Baker clutch would be the best option. Unfortunately I failed to take into account that my Vape, my power bank and cables not to mention a lipstick and other items were also being housed in the safety of my designer handbag. And with the decision being made in my head I made my choice to be sick inside the one vessel that would not charge me £50 for a clean up fee AKA my Ted Baker clutch.

The only saying that is fully clear in my head is that I woke up at about 11:30am when I heard Mr Warehouse calling my name. I think at first I was woken up by his motorcycle coming back home from his shift although that may well have been a dream. He was so angry and immediately started flying off the handle about how drunk I was and what estate I came home. Apparently Mr Warehouse had been trying to call me all morning, ringing more than sixteen times. I think in all fairness he was probably angry out of the fear for when he left for work (with only two-hours sleep) he was terrified of that we would come home to meet dead after choking on my own vomit. Luckily that was not the case however I felt awful for making him so angry. To be fair I don't think I have ever seen him so angry with me. I was devastated and yet confused by the fact that I found myself naked and in my bed but did not look or how I got home. 

Even to this moment a trying to terrifies me that I do not know exactly how I got back into my bed that night. All I can be thankful for is Mr Warehouse living with me as I am not sure what state or even if I would have gotten home safely. From the account that my wonderful boyfriend has given, I stumbled through the door at about 2am and made probably as much racket as I possibly could. By this point I had apparently already thrown up outside on the steps leading up to our flat as well as all down our French patio doors as well as the handle. I had as usual come in and gone straight to the bathroom sat on the toilet and throwing up all over myself in a last ditch attempt to aim for the bath. I can only assume that it was at this point that Mr Warehouse was roused from his slumber by my sickening wretches and came to save me, undressing me and putting me to bed safely. 

Whilst there has been some serious cleaning and even a moving round of some furniture in order to accommodate hopefully under open plan living situation in our front room, there has been very little if any decorating at all done. I can assure you though that I have most definitely learnt my lesson. I have thought about the missing minutes and hours potentially I have had over this weekend and would even consider the possibility that I may well have been spiked. I suppose that there is always the possibility. Not entirely sure as to why someone would want to spike my drink in particular or maybe they thought that it was Miss Hackney's. Either way something was telling me to just go home and maybe this was my subconscious kicking into action and overhauling my drunken mind. Whatever happened I am most certainly going to be more careful when I am out drinking next time, should there even be a next time since I am still in the dog house! 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx