This. Sucks. Ass.

Hello everyone, 

Waking up that morning, sunlight just peeking through the blinds I was not looking forward to the day. There was so much to take in and so many new things and experiences it was all a bit much. Dressing in something more presentable than leggings and donning a bra for the first time in like six months, I was as prepared as I was ever going to be. Packing up my lunch, Slimming World books for the after-work entertainment and swimming costume for the Aquafit class after that I was nervous for all that Tuesday had to bring. 

Arriving at the office, feeling like my Mom had dropped me off for my first day of school and hearing Mr Warehouse pull away in the car I knew this was it, but walking through the gates I met a couple of friendly faces and slowly my fear and anxiety started to melt away. It took most of the day though and it felt ever so clunky being back at a desk I haven't been crafting and sticking stuff to. Struggling through my first week being half-and-half-back in the office and at home has been a struggle, but I have enjoyed seeing peoples faces again and missed the human interaction one normal has in an office environment.  

But regardless of the safety measures and socially distanced desks, the virus is still haunting my life and figures from the BBC released today (Monday 14 September 2020) confirm that the number of new cases of coronavirus is continuing to rise fears over a second spike are real. Whilst the figures do not suggest an upward turn for the pandemic, the figures are certainly damning when you look at where we are now and base it on the last six-months, figures for new COVID-19 cases are about the same levels as they were in late-March/early April this year. With coronavirus related deaths in the last 24-hour period were only recorded at just nine, a huge improvement to where we have been as a nation,  Boris Johnson announced that from today the Government’s advice would be changing and that "There are three simple actions we must all do to keep on protecting each other" - Wash hands, wear a mask and keep 2-metres apart. Hands. Face. Space. 

The rules around socialising and meeting up with friends and loved ones have also changed. Now, when seeing friends and family you must not meet in a group of more than 6, indoors or outdoors. This is something which is now against the law and the police will have the powers to enforce these legal limits which could include issuing fines of £100, doubling for further breaches and flouting of rules up to a maximum of £3,200. However, there are exceptions to this where groups can be larger than 6 people including for work, childcare, education, wedding and civil partnership ceremonies and receptions (not that it will benefit us as still up to 30 people including the bridal party) and public place funerals. So it seems for now at least, Mr. Warehouse can breathe easy as I cannot plan any sort of party or social gathering without facing the prospect of a fine. Halloween? Cancelled. My birthday? Semi-Cancelled.  Christmas Dinner? Who fucking knows at this rate but Christmas parties and New Years Eve celebrations are all up for the chop. 

This sucks. All of it sucks ass. So much fucking ass. I hate it. I hate what it has done to my plans and preparations and has put a massive fucking dampener on life and all future bloody plans. I thought, with less than 3-weeks before my planned wedding day I would at least have something to look forward to. A beach holiday somewhere hot where I can complain about the sand in-between my toes and indulge on one too many cocktails made by Alejandro the barman as I look at the clock and wonder where me and my groom and my wedding dress would be doing. 

But no. It looks as though Corona has fucked that one for me too as quarantine rules change so fast now, Mr Warehouse is worried about having to be off work if the rules change whilst we are away. Rules stipulate at the moment that "You will need to self-isolate if you visited or made a transit stop in a country or territory that is not on the travel corridor list in the 14 days before you arrive in England" says Gov.uk. So I suppose I can kiss goodbye to dreamy Greek islands or lush Italian breaks. I'm not going anywhere!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Laid Off and Fighting Back!

Bloggers Note: I have recently decided to start a thing going whereby if you yourself have a 'Trial or Tribulation' that I can help with then feel free to drop me a free and fully confidential message by popping it on a mini form in the right-hand sidebar or email me at: Abbbey4@gmail.com :) xx

Heyy Everyone, 

So after the last couple of weeks being an emotional roller coaster and with disagreements surrounding my blogg content regarding my relationship with my mother and generally my family values life has not got much better. Yet again I am back at square uno and in the same situation I find myself all the damn time. I am, yet again, unemployed. 

This happened on Friday and was a culmination of many weeks slaving through overtime including ridiculously early mornings and tiring late evenings at work putting in the hours just to try and attempt to make a difference in my work load which was all in vain as when your part of what is meant to be a four or five person team running on two maybe three people you can imagine the stress and strain it caused. And so after ten-weeks in the new job role as Credit Control Administrator I was formerly considered unable to cope with the amount of pressure put on me as a team member and cleared my desk swiftly saying goodbye to work colleagues that I had come to love and admire. Safe to say I shall miss working there a little bit however there are some things (and some people) that I shall not miss. 

All in all whilst I sit here by my window in my little flat I am panicking. I have less than enough money in my bank account, I have bills coming out my arse left, right and centre and to top it all off the rent is due in less that three weeks. I am slowly slipping into my overdraft and have very little food in my kitchen to sustain me for much longer. I have no savings and spent all my driving lesson money on moving into my new abode of which not a penny of it has been put back. I think I am starting to get very, very concerned about my life now and how I shall manage on what a menial allowance the government in the UK pays people with no jobs. 

However I do not plan on investing in tracksuit bottoms just yet as I have had a rather proactive Monday whereby I have sought advice from the CAB (Citizens Advice Bureau) as well as the local council and have obtained a stack of paperwork to fill in and return first thing tomorrow morning. On Friday evening I was able to bag myself a telephone interview with a large company based and conducted myself so well this morning over the phone that they have offered me a second interview at their offices just outside Bedford. I have also been put through for a handful of other positions ranging from admin and Secretary work right down to good old customer service. I would love to go back to doing credit control and have stipulated that to the agencies in the town; But at this very moment I cannot be choosy as to where my next pay-cheque comes from. 

Other than that life has not been easy over the past few days although that wonderful Mr. Cheese of mine has been able to make life a little more bearable with his company. I thought that when it comes down to situations like this that I am quite an optimistic person, always seeing the silver lining in things and making the best out of a situation. But Mr. Cheese on the other hand brings a whole new meaning to looking up - No pun intended! Naughty! After chatting to him on Friday night, I dreaded even telling him thinking that he would no longer want to be my boyfriend because of my change in circumstance. I thought to myself as I rang his number for the fifth time that evening forcing myself not to hang up for lack of words, that somehow it would be much easier to just tell him that I no longer wanted to be with him any more. Yes. I know it sounds stupid because I'm more crazy about him than I am about Starbucks (and I fucking love Starbucks) but somewhere in my head it equates that I wouldn't want to date someone unemployed, so why would anyone want to date me with no job. I know. Silly really! Mr. Cheese's optimism shone through when he mentioned that the weekend is the weekend and that logically speaking I'm not classed as unemployed until Monday morning, which is a nice way to look at it, but it didn't stop my stomach from flipping the entire weekend knowing that bills still have to be paid and rent will become due soon. 

Life for the young people of Britain is hard. I'm not going to lie I hate being here again. Unemployed, Unwanted and Undervalued. It seems that the culture nower days is simply that employees, in particularly those under thirty are just too disposable. Even when you get a job its hard as employers know that if you don't want it that there are hundreds of people lined up behind you that are waiting for you to slip up. The benefits system in England is something I believe is a good thing and is there for people in desperate times to make ends meat and pay for things to help the survive. It is something manageable, not livable. Social security is not something I want to be on and I would like to think that the majority of people I plan to see at the Job Centre over the next week will be in the same boat as me. But all too often you see the iconic characters including velour track-suited mom's pushing a pram with a screaming child whilst two other tag along behind, the alcoholics and drug abusers whom with the money the government has just given them will go straight towards the tills of the nearest seven-eleven and the thugs that hang around in groups only to intimidate and scare those in society that should be respected and honoured. Yes. It is these people that I loath as I am sure many of you do. Why? Because unlike myself and other hard working individuals who have found themselves out of work, these people have no intention of getting a job instead claiming that they are unable to work due to health reasons, child care or some other phantom excuse. 

The Job Centre itself is about as much help as a chocolate teapot. Whilst the job-seekers loitering around the entrances of the lurid green institutes and you take your first steps inside what is meant to be a place of helpful information and advice you feel every little shred of joy you had left in your sole sucked out, turning you as grey and defeated as the cigarette ash coating the pavements outside. As studies have already proven the Job Centre is a failure in its own right. Jobs are rarely updated when filled, staff are unhelpful and the processes are complicated and confusing even for the best of people. Their job is to find you a job but seldom does that ever happened. Usually you are pointed in the direction of a website or machine that you can look at vacancies in the local area and towards information you could have picked up using Google. 

Whilst I have gone off on a slight tangent I do hope that with all this in mind I shall not be out of work for very long. Actually scratch that. You know what I know I wont be out of work for very long. I can do this. I can beat this and make something better for myself that sitting on the sofa eating CoCo Pops at 9am watching Jeremy Kyle and his guests battle it out for a DNA test. Seriously though! No. I plan to get up and fight this with everything I've got. I will make this better and have a job where I am appreciated and rewarded for my hard work. Fuck you life! I'm biting back - Rawr!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

We Lost the Sheep ...

Good evening,
 
And what a good evening it is. Nearly a fortnight of beautiful weather here in the UK and hopefully it stays like that. I love how even though I love being British, somehow talking about the weather make me feel much more worthy of such a title. Over the weekend it got up to over thirty-degrees which is hotter than it was on holiday in Majorca. Anyway, enough about the weather, more about my week!
 
As with most week's I slogged it out at work just so I could make it to the weekend. And what a weekend it was. Reminded me of the good old days when your still paying for your drunken mistakes and dodgy dancing come Tuesday - Of which 'yes' I am still recovering. Now it was just meant to be some casual drinks round Miss Tweedle-Dee's house to celebrate her father's birthday but before we knew what had hit us gone was the relaxing cider on the patio sofa's and there we were on the lawn's doing shots of vodka. How on earth I was able to drink that stuff neat when I was fourteen in the park with the younger Tweedle's beats me. Its almost like drinking bleach, even when it is the premium brands. As the night progressed and the sun began to go to bed the night really started to come alive. Laughing and sharing stories began and before we knew it we had all booked a cab into the local town to hit up some pubs and clubs. As the taxi arrived outside the pub Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I hopped out followed by the girlfriends of Miss Tweedle-Dee's brothers. A proper girls night out. Heading straight to the bar we all got some drinks in and started to dance with me acting as main cock-blocker of the night I knew it was going to be good fun.
 
After a couple of songs and once our bottles were empty we headed to the next bar along the High Street and again, up to the bar we went. Only as we walked in I made eye contact with Mr. Coffee's brother! Bit awkward given the last time we spoke he had just found out that Mr. Coffee and I had christened his bed for him. Not thinking any more of it I hit the dance floor with the girls whilst the Tweedle's grabbed some drinks. Sweating like a fat kid in a cake shop I knew I needed to use the little girls room and so made my way through the crowds to the bathrooms. A few minute later Miss Tweedle-Dee walks in and with a grin on her face says I have to come with her. Panicking that maybe she had found Mr. Coffee and was hoping I was going to have it out with him on the dance floor I obliged. She seemed happy though. Maybe it wasn't so bad. But as she lead me by the hand we came to the warm, muggy air outside the front of the pub. It was only now that I saw the two skinny ladies perched onto a wall, holding onto each other as they tried not to fall into the flower beds behind the wall. They had been chucked out and as a result Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I were also out. Sighing we put our heads together to see what we would do next, but before we even had a chance to think properly we were told by the paralytic-drunkards that we should continue our night of mayhem. And so we headed back to the first pub we went into carry-on with the night.
 
A few hours in and I fancied some air and a cigarette so went outside. I could still see the rest of them, partying away without a care in the world. Even Miss Tweedle-Dee seemed to be enjoying herself, the one person who disagreed with our impromptu night on the tiles. Moments later I was joined by Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb who also sparked up. I mentioned that someone should go back to the girlfriends and keep an eye on them, but we could see them from where we were sitting outside so it would be fine for the time being. That was until I went back in to find them. They were no-where to be found. The bar, toilets, smoking area, even the dance floor was free from their presence. Worried I went back to Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb to see if they were there. The girls weren't there. Worried the Tweedles and I split up doing a wrecky one last time but still nothing. We had all there identification and money as well as their mobiles so they cant have gone far. Eventually after an hour of looking round the town we decided to head home and tell Miss Tweedle-Dee's brothers that we had lost their beloved girlfriends. Thankfully though by the time we reached Miss Tweedle-Dee's house the girlfriend's had been found to have made their own ways home. Realising it was too late to get a train home, Miss Tweedle-Dumb offered me her bedroom floor, and whilst cramped it was gratefully appreciated more than an three-hour wait on a cold bench at the station waiting for a train that may never come.

Also this week, after searching for both an abode and affection, I seemed to have stumbled across both. Wait around for ages and then two come along at the same time, eh? Now I know your dying to know about the 'Mr.' but its super earlier days so I shall not disclose anything yet. In terms of my new bachelor pad, I sent off my application forms and paperwork today and so should hear back pretty soon as to when I can move in, hopefully before the month is out.

It is a gorgeous, old Victorian property that is huge. It used to be an old boarding house for kids from the local towns and villages attending school in the town centre of Bedford so has buckets of character and maybe even a sneaky ghost or two? My flat is on the top floor and has a slanted roof, big sash windows that look out onto the back of the property, and enough room to park a plane. My own little home sweet home. I am so excited to move in I struggle sometimes to stay in one place at a time without buzzing about the place. I cant explain it. The feeling that I get when I know something is forthcoming as big as this just fills me with joy. I can tell I am going to be very happy there! I can finally do what I like, when I like and how I like it because I wont have to answer to anyone. I can eat chocolate and crisps for dinner. I can roll out of bed when I want to on a Sunday. Hell, I can even drink milk from the carton again and run around naked - Although I wouldn't want to make the neighbours sick, so maybe I shall keep my clothes on.
 
So fingers crossed that Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb will come visit me in my new home, maybe then we can have a crazy night out on the town ...

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Muchas Gracias ...

Hi Everyone,
 
My goodness what a week. Exhausting and stressful but glad that I am able to reveal all to you now. You will be pleased to hear that Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb are not burnt to a crisp but heavily tanned, although much to their dismay 'The Peel' as it is now refered to has started. So after leaving you last week in stiflingly hot Majorca I am now safely back in the UK, but not without our fair share of problems let me tell you that ...
 
I found Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb by the pool still sunning themselves trying to cram as much tan-time as possible and after a brief disagreement we started to get ready for the transfer coaches arrival. Boarding the coach and finding our seats we appreciated the on-board air conditioning. Bumbling around the local towns and hotels picking up tourists I began listening to a Belfast family and willingly allowed their accents to bless my ears. That is until a well-bronzed, middle-aged couple got on board and started rustling their travel documents. Upset at their rudeness I gazed out the window at the setting sun over Spanish wasteland. I started to day dream of meeting the perfect Irishman in a bar; Tall, dark and handsome with a thick Irish accent. Mmmm! Suddenly though I was snapped back to the cooling coach. Then, Miss Tweedle-Dumb had started to explain how our flight back home was cancelled. Laughing I told her to sod off and stop pulling my leg. Her face was serious but still I refused to believe her. "How dare she snap me out of a pleasant pipe dream of me and my future Husband meeting in a smokey, old-style city pub on 'The Green Isle'. Rude!" I jovially said to myself. As we arrived at the airport though, worrying that my fantasy was interrupted was the last thing I had to worry about. Our flight had been cancelled!
 
Whilst the Tweedles panicked, as did the rest of the coach party, I grabbed a luggage trolley and loaded our bags. Pacing into the Airport itself we joined a line that was already a few hundred long and several people wide. After hearing the stresses of Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee I decided to go and ask someone what was going on. I joined some people talking to a young attendant and she informed us that due to some issues with the French authorities no flights were allowed into the airspace at all and that almost eighty percent of flights that day and before had been cancelled. These problems could last for up to four days she went on. Armed with this information I waddled back to The Girls and told them what I knew. Several moment later after discussing options a few of us in the lengthening queue were asked to make a separate line for people going to certain destinations. Like sheep we herded round the desks waiting to hear our fate. Becoming bored I started to befriend a pudgy man behind us in the line. I was somewhat dazzled and slightly bemused by the fact that the larger man had a full set of gold teeth. "Very odd" I thought. But after listening to his conversation to a fellow line-ee I discovered he was a washed up pop star who had appeared on a talent programme some years back. Miss Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Tweedle-Dee and I had to watch some of his performed and cringed watching them later on.

Finally arriving at the desk we were told by the lady that the next available flight wasn't for another three days, but it wasn't guaranteed that would be able to leave either. We had no choice. We had to take it. So Miss Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Tweedle-Dee and I agreed and our flight was booked for nearly midnight on Thursday evening. But there was a problem. It was only Tuesday. Where were we going to stay for the next seventy-two hours, or more if our new flight was delayed or cancelled! Thankfully the airline recognised this and whilst they admitted that it wasn't the travel providers fault they had to help somehow. So they paid for Miss Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Tweedle-Dee and I to stay in a three-star, all-inclusive hotel for a couple of nights and also arrange for pre-paid taxi's to collect and drop us off. Happy for the solution all three of us bundled into a cab and headed to our beds - Not before another dispute due to the fact we were all starving and wasting away due to not eating since breakfast.

And that was that. Miss Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Tweedle-Dee and I had worked out that we had bagged a ten-night holiday in sunny Spain for just under £200.00! Bargain if I do say so myself. The morning after our terrible Tuesday I was able to engorge myself with my all-inclusive breakfast so I didn't die of malnutrition, however the water I feel did alter a few things. Lets just say that The Tweedles and I took a few trips to "Brown-Town" during those extra days - at least the Loo was nice though. The extra few days we spent relaxing by the pool, topping up the tan and drinking pre-mixed Pina Colada's whilst trying to avoid the over-enthusiastic holiday rep's. So here I am, back home at last. But its not all boring - Oh no! Because I can promise you next week will be a storm ... Watch this space!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

A Week In Paradise With The Tweedles

Afternoon guys, 

So, last time we spoke I was on my balcony looking out towards the beach and anticipating the next seven days with Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee. And what an amazing way to spend those seven days. Miss Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Tweedle-Dee and I have not spent a single day away from the beach and have indulged in some of our favourite holiday activities including getting so tanned we look like locals and the girls dragging me out to sea so far I can't touch the floor and freak out. 

Miss Tweedle-Dee has now got an arm the size of Jupiter as she has been bitten by Mosquito's so much and as a result has an arm the would resemble something from the plague. I however have not been cursed and for some odd reason the Mozzies prefer her blood, which I'm not complaining at. In fact one evening just before I tucked Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee in bed they alerted me to a speck on our ceiling which was indeed a Mosquito. Without a seconds thought and wanting to protect my friends from the blood-thirsty fiend I took a magazine, jumped on the bed and whacked him so hard I nearly went flying. After finding my balance again I realised that there was screams and laughter erupting from where the girls lay. Looking up to the ceiling I found out why. I had hit the poor insect so hard he had exploded a beautiful blood splat right in his place. Worried that our cleaner may notice I explained how it wasn't noticeable, although we all new it was there for the remainder of our holiday. 

Along with the odd insect murder on our hands we also lived out some childhood dreams. As Miss Tweedle-Dumb, Miss Tweedle-Dee and I have known each other for years we knew what sort of upbringings we have had, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I especially. So on the first day we bought a Lilo each and never looked back. We rode the waves and even attempted to surf on the inflatables, that is until Miss Tweedle-Dumb's died of deflation. All three of us turned into kids for the majority of the week often having more than one ice-cream a day and sometimes even for brunch! We got on a Pedalo and rode out to see and even went on a boat trip which was lots if fun. 

Playing a game of 'Inuendo Bingo' also provided a source of entertainment when Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I sat down with a mouth full of water and waiting to see who would crumble first at the sound of something funny from Miss Tweedle-Dee's holiday read. Lets just say that we both got very, very wet. Thankfully though no arguments apart from something trivial which ended up with Miss Tweedle-Dumb throwing water at me, I squirted sun cream at her and before we knew it we had coated the whole apartment in sun lotion and water which made for a very slippery surface as Miss Tweedle-Dumb found out. Attempting to chase me into the bedroom to get me with the water she slipped on the creamy floor and fell right onto her bottom. Definately the top highlight of my holiday. 

There was some serious stuff too. I have had a lot to think about and have come to the conclusion that whilst I love Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee, as well as my family and other friends; I am ready for a change in scenery. I have thought for a long time about moving away and maybe spending a few months living somewhere different. Dublin, Ireland maybe or somewhere closer like Cardiff, Wales. I want to do it over this coming Winter, maybe October 'til March next year - Just some time to find myself and gain some experience of the world. Wherever I go though I am sure I shall have some tales to tell. And who knows I may even find 'The One'.

Speaking of which I have been thinking about the scary world that is dating for a while now and I think it's about time to get back out there. So after a year of being single after the train-wreck that was my last relationship I am finally ready to meet someone new - And Miss Tweedle-Dee is too! As soon as we get back from sunny Majorca I plan on looking into speed dating for Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Chocolate and I. We all need to find our Prince Charming and he won't come looking for us, despite how much we want him to arrive at our workplace one day on a white steed carrying a large bouquet of flowers and a box of fine chocolates. I am positive that Mr. Right is out there for me and all my friends, they just need hunting down and capturing. 

And so we come to the end of another week, this time it was in the sun. Sadly though our flight back home to a drizzly Blighty is tonight. Speaking of which I best go and find Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee. I left them outside to catch some rays again. I hope they haven't been cremated ...

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Another Bank Holiday Survived ...

Hi,
 
Another week and another Bank Holiday has been lived through yet again. To think that the next one wont be until August! This fact makes me sad. I have however been a very busy bunny and have got lots to tell you so I shall crack on.
 
So just after last week's 'episode' I got a text from the lovely Mr. Accent pampering my ego by saying how much he enjoyed reading. To be honest I am a little shocked he actually could be bothered to read it, I'm still trying to get over the fact that you guys find my life so interesting to tune in every week as well, but thanks nevertheless. Talking about how I had made Mr. Accent feel better about himself and boosted his confidence put a smile on my face and made my own head double in size.
 
Friday soon rolled round and after I had bid a farewell to the parents I knew it was time to party. Before I I knew it though, I was working with Miss Tweedle-Dumb behind the bar at a local bar for a party hosted in aid of a children's charity. Less than two hours in and already there was a fight. I should have seen it coming to be fair; more guys than girls, access to alcohol and pheromones bouncing left, right and centre - It was bound to happen. But as I watched safely from behind the bar while the fists were flying, Miss Tweedle-Dumb got stuck in there trying to break it all up. After giving the host a second chance to redeem both the event and her guests Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I reopened the bar and proceeded on with the evening. Until that is when, twenty minute later, the same thug made another surprise appearance. On entering the room he walked up to the bar, his footsteps getting faster as he started to make a run-up. Jumping onto the bar he looked dead into my eyes, his steely glaze frozen me to the spot and I knew that I wasn't to get in the way of him and his violent intentions. Grabbing a glass from underneath the bar he jumped down and calmly quick-paced back the way he had come separating the crowds of party-goers. As the lights came on and the music stopped once more the tinkle of glass could be heard as the trouble-maker smashed the stolen glass off the edge of a sideboard. Yells, screams and shouts were to follow as well as lots of tears and unhappy faces. The party was over. On the plus side though Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I got an earlier night and were back home drinking Hot Chocolate and gossipping by midnight.
 
Rising early on Saturday I decided to join Miss Chocolate for some retail therapy and spent more than I probably would like to admit. Soon though I realised that I had run out of time and with my bags full to bursting and my purse lightening I raced to the station to catch the train back home. Arriving home I flopped onto the sofa, bags and all. I knew that the girls would be here any moment and so I rushed around the house hanging up banners, sticking up decorations and planning party games like pin the tail on the donkey and pass the parcel, even spray painting the cake gold and sticking a unicorn on top. Anyone would have thought it was a kids birthday party but no, this was Miss Tweedle-Dumb's 21st birthday celebration and I was the host. I wanted everything to be perfect and it was. Everyone ended up having a brilliant time and the night ended with Miss Tweedle-Dumb receiving a lap-dance from none other than yours truly - The things you do for the ones you love, eh?
 
Following a calming and relaxing lunch with the gang on Sunday and meeting Miss Tweedle-Dumb's boyfriend for the second time in their nearly three year relationship, we all went back to my parent's house for cocktails in the late afternoon sun. After coming to no resolutions in regards to what we should all do on the last day of the bank holiday, everyone left and once again I rushed around like a headless chicken getting ready for a night out on the tiles with Miss Chocolate - And what a night that was! Slurping down the rest of the cocktail I had concocted, Little old me made my way to the station and boarded the next train into town. Meeting Miss Chocolate, we made our way towards the smells, sounds and lights of the town I used to call 'Home'. Once we had paid the unreasonable fee to enter the nightclub we realised that this was not going to be as fun as our Friday night in Frodsham (See Friday Night In Frodsham). Although at one point during the evening I became terrified when a young, black male approached me from behind and started to 'Bump and Grind' on me as Miss Chocolate put it, but I see it as a violation of my derriere. Later on in the evening whilst switching DJ's, I was happily minding my own business until a song came blasting from the speakers, and, for no apparent reason I started to cry. Other than the fact that the lyrics and song itself cast me back to happier times with my once perfect, Mr. Workaholic, I couldn't see any reason as to why I was standing in the middle of the dance floor surrounded by mildly attractive men and sobbing hard into Miss Chocolates shoulders whilst she comforted me. Upon coming up for air, a very nice girl stopped and gave me a hug. Whilst wiping away my tears she said to be happy and not to cry as he wasn't worth it. It is at that moment I promised myself I shall never shed a tear over the dud that is Mr. Workaholic. Pushing these facts aside we partied well into the early hours and I returned home whilst the sun was coming up.

With less than three-hours sleep though I was woken by Miss Tweedle-Dee proclaiming that we were going to do something with the day and that I need to get out of bed and be ready as soon as possible. Soon after that, Miss Tweedle-Dumb called and said that she was coming to pick me up so we could begin our day out. And so the weekend was finished with a walk in the local countryside topped off with the afternoon sitting in a small cafe by a canal lock not far from where Mr. Workaholic and I used to live. Whilst indulging ourselves in a very British tea and cake session, Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I planned for what we would need to take on our holiday.

With the rainy days that have followed the bank holiday and with less than a week to go, I find myself writing this post thinking that this time next week I shall hopefully be writing to you from a warmer climate somewhere on the island of Majorca.

'Til next time, Love A.Lou :) xx