Heyy,
Alas stepping onto the scales last week, a mere pound away from losing my first stone and 1.5lbs from seeing a new stone-zone I was silently disappointed. Can hardly remember the last time I was in the 17-Stone range?! Nevertheless, I had a good week, eating out three times and snacking most of Saturday night so can hardly be surprised. Unfortunately, the Saturday to follow was all about sore heads, and not the good kind!
My Nephew, or should I say, future Nephew (at least for the next few months) had a big birthday this weekend and as the birthday boy wanted to do Ice Skating, Mr Warehouse and I joined his brother and his young family and a few friends on the ice at our local ice hockey stadium to shred it in our blades.
Now when the kids asked me if I had skated before, I didn't exactly lie to them, maybe just bent the truth. Honestly, I had only been skating a handful of times, and I mean a handful. I think the last time was with Mr Workaholic and his family in Hemel Hempstead, and even then I needed one of those kiddie penguin things. Nevertheless, I was older now, more mature and Dancing on Ice was a thing. So whilst I acknowledged I would not be doing a Disney On Ice recreation of pirouette's and jumps, I was hoping I may be able to do without Percy Penguin this time.
Donning my skates, I was anxious as I watched on as each person carefully stepped onto the slippery ice. one by one they all skated off, gliding over the frozen water like fucking pro's. I was envious, to say the least as I knew, stepping out and sliding along a little I was not going to be as graceful. In fact, it took only a few tugs along the side of the rink before I lost my balance. Down I went. The only problem being is that despite my weight loss so far, all of me came crashing down. The first thing to make contact? My head. With the corner of the rink itself. Smacking my head heavy off the corner of the entrance I was dazed a little but knew I had to get up, for fear of embarrassment if nothing else.
Suffice to say, Mr Warehouse was pissing himself, literally nearly dying from lack of oxygen due to laughing so hard. But, with my British stiff upper lip I (attempted) to keep calm and carry on. Slowly but surely my aching legs and arms pulled me around the rink, three times in fact, although not without my fair share of slipping, sliding and splitting (literally doing the splits like an X-Rated version of fecking Bambi). Yes, I fell over, but so did others, although I don't think that they were approached by two very concerned 14-year-olds asking if I needed help getting up like some geriatric old fart. After falling over several times and being overtaken by several children younger than myself I found a polar bear (not a real one) and continued to go round a couple more times with him aiding and supporting me. I had no shame. None whatsoever. I was Darcey Bussell. No-one could stop me. Apart from the ice. The ice stopped me a few times.
"I thought these things were meant to stabilise you and stop you from slipping over?!" I exclaimed in my head as I headed towards Mr Warehouse and Co. on the other side of the Ice Rink. Needing a rest I stopped for a little, more so to give my leggies a rest more than anything. It's hard to relax any sort of leg muscle when your feet are strapped in tighter than a fat man on a rollercoaster and your only contact with the ground was a thin shiny metal blade.
Sitting down, exhausted, Mr Warehouse made a comment about how I didn't look well. Truthfully I didn't feel well. I felt sick. Like as if I was going to vomit. My skin felt weird, like that kind of flu-ey skin you get when you are ill. I couldn't concentrate, my eyes desperately trying to focus on anything. Something wasn't right.
"How hard did you hit your head?" Mr Warehouse said jokingly as he went to reach up to my head. And there it was searing hot pain spread across my skull. OWWW! Mr Warehouse face changed as it went from jovial fun on the ice to a serious and scared fiance. Reaching up to feel my head I could see why he was concerned. A huge lump had arisen. At the size of an orange, I knew that I had done some damage. I began getting irritable, shaking for no reason. I felt like I had been drinking for weeks and stopped, all of a sudden on some sort of come-down. I felt weird. This was weird. This wasn't right and I am not OK.
I decided that as much as I wanted to I couldn't risk going back out on the ice, plus some little fuck had stolen my polar bear so probably for the best. I took off my skates as did everyone else and headed back to the car, a dull ache starting to set in. Everything hurt. Every step I took was going straight to my inflamed head. After a quiet car journey and a stop off at some shops for a drink and some painkillers, we headed (excuse the pun) back to my future In-Laws for cake and presents. I really could have done with going to Accident and Emergency but I didn't want to worry anyone or spoil my Nephew's birthday.
After an hour or so I obviously wasn't looking right so Mr Warehouse made our excuses and left. After a little telly, I hit the pillow for an early night and struggled to wake the next morning, still with sore head and body littered with bruises. I was aching and I was tired but with a risk of concussion, Mr Warehouse refused to let me sleep any longer and instead we headed out to meet my Dad and his wife for tea and cake. That afternoon though I got my wish as I lazed on the couch most the afternoon snoozing in between pokes from my fiance just to make sure I was alive still. Even the weekly traditional roast dinner didn't sort me out and still even today at my desk colleagues referred to me as looking peaky and "not well". I spoke to HR who advised to go home, to which I replied that if I was paid to be off with sickness then I would, but I have a mortgage and can't afford time off.
As I looked online at the NHS Website and their advice on Minor Head Injuries and Concussion, I knew that things are not good when on day two you still have symptoms. Now to be fair, it does state that if you have been knocked out but have now woken up, been vomiting or have been drinking alcohol then I should go to Accident and Emergency, but I haven't so it's OK right? The Website continues to states that it's normal to have symptoms such as a slight headache, feeling nauseous or dazed and these can last anywhere up to 2 weeks.
NHS guidelines go on to say that to bring down any swelling holding an ice pack (or a bag of frozen peas in a tea towel) to the injury regularly for short periods in the first few days is helpful. Resting up and avoid stress is also advisable and to take paracetamol or ibuprofen to relieve pain or a headache but not aspirin as it could cause the injury to bleed. And whilst I have been at work today, it is probably not a good thing as further advise states that patients suffering from minor head injuries should not go back to work or school until feeling better and should not drive until fully recovered.
At the moment I still feel sick and having to concentrate today at work was hard. The screens didn't help and where I was normally focused and on the ball I simply couldn't take it in, sometimes taking several attempts to read the simplest of sentences, not good for a busy and fast-paced environment. I will have to wait and see how I feel tomorrow, but if I am not getting paid then I won't have much choice, concussion or not.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Showing posts with label Fall. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fall. Show all posts
Monday, 9 March 2020
Monday, 30 October 2017
Off To See The Wizard ...
Hello Dears,
Who ever knew at the last week would have been so hard. After coming back from Basingstoke and all the fun that we had there it was like returning home after not having a weekend. No Besties and no fun! Just work! But one thing I was looking forward to was this weekend Halloween celebrations.
Now don't get me wrong I understand that a lot of people will probably not get the whole Halloween vibe, even going as far as to say that it is far too American for our British culture and that by adopting this as well as the Black Friday Saga that seems to come round every year we are slowly but surely losing out on the good old fashioned British values. But what people fail to realise is that this time of year made Britain what it is today. Some of my fondest childhood memories are in the autumn, when the leaves fall and I used to spend the weekends watching fireworks with my family and celebrating remembrance parade halfway through November. One fond memory that is missed off the list is from Halloween.
As a child I always wanted to celebrate the spooky nature of All Hallows Eve and all that it brings. Getting dressed up in the scary costumes and playing trick or treat on all the neighbours doors was something in our household growing up as kids that was found upon and seen as a form of begging. I barely got the chance to stay out long enough on a school night to even attempt a trick or a treat. Oh how I longed to go to a high school Halloween party or even throw one of my own.
As I separated from my family I grew into my own and realised just how much I enjoy this holiday, even if it is an all American import. Halloween for me celebrate everything about being fun and creative, making costumes and carving pumpkins. I love being scared and making others scared, although I draw the line at some haunted houses as it is almost certain I would have a heart attack just walking into place. Unlike our American cousins we have decided to take a truly British spin on Halloween, keeping as traditional as possible with a scary twist making sure that All Hallows Eve remains of the day we celebrate the dead and send home all those that are Lost Souls.
Over the years I have dressed as many different characters including that Little Red Riding Hood, Snow White, a scary Doctor/Nurse, A Fallen Angel and this year was no different for I had gone and bought myself a proper outfit for the occasion. Unfortunately I'm bringing it home Mr Warehouse took one look and said that he could easily have pulled off the look himself. And what girlfriend would I be to deny him of this choice. And so, this weekend Mr Warehouse donde blue gingham dress, wig and red socks over his shoes in order to pull off one of the most shoddily put together Wizard of Oz outfit I think I have ever seen. And Me?! Well of course I could not go as Toto so indeed I went as the cowardly lion, complete with his heart ripped out of his chest, ready to begin his quest to find it. Now I will be honest in the fact that it took a few people some goes to get the whole idea of what we came as, but once they understood laughter soon ensued.
Now normally Mr Warehouse is not bothered at all by Halloween and I am usually planning our outfits at least a year in advance, but this year as we stood watching the fireworks in the local village Mr. Warehouse wondered outside what we would be dressed as this time next year. Since I have used up all the liquid latex and my makeup brushes will be going to get ruined, I figured that maybe we should go for a more simpler and easier look next year. I seriously considered going as Cruella DeVille and Horace who stole the puppies, however I know that I would be reaching for the liquid latex once again for the cheekbones and chin would not chisel themselves. I considered also the latest cinema releases this year including Beauty and the Beast, however yet again they would be much preparation for the dress and the suit are quite hard to come by.
I am not quite sure yet what Mr Warehouse and I will be wearing this time next year on Halloween however what I do know is that it will probably be a little bit easier to come by. The thought of simply being a vampire or even that Frankenstein and his bride was far too tame for me before, although I feel now that this would be something quite apt for the occasion and in all fairness rather easy to do. Although a small part of me feels that after so many years of prosthetics, liquid latex and toilet paper all mashed up with some homemade fake blood that I would be taking a rather easy route out of the Halloween outfit hall of fame. Who knows what the next year holds, maybe we will go as Chucky and his bride or maybe we will go at something more challenging. But one thing is for sure that in the next 12 months I am sure to have a lot more fun! And to think Mr Warehouse have another one in a few weekends time! Roll on the 90's!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Who ever knew at the last week would have been so hard. After coming back from Basingstoke and all the fun that we had there it was like returning home after not having a weekend. No Besties and no fun! Just work! But one thing I was looking forward to was this weekend Halloween celebrations.
Now don't get me wrong I understand that a lot of people will probably not get the whole Halloween vibe, even going as far as to say that it is far too American for our British culture and that by adopting this as well as the Black Friday Saga that seems to come round every year we are slowly but surely losing out on the good old fashioned British values. But what people fail to realise is that this time of year made Britain what it is today. Some of my fondest childhood memories are in the autumn, when the leaves fall and I used to spend the weekends watching fireworks with my family and celebrating remembrance parade halfway through November. One fond memory that is missed off the list is from Halloween.
As a child I always wanted to celebrate the spooky nature of All Hallows Eve and all that it brings. Getting dressed up in the scary costumes and playing trick or treat on all the neighbours doors was something in our household growing up as kids that was found upon and seen as a form of begging. I barely got the chance to stay out long enough on a school night to even attempt a trick or a treat. Oh how I longed to go to a high school Halloween party or even throw one of my own.
As I separated from my family I grew into my own and realised just how much I enjoy this holiday, even if it is an all American import. Halloween for me celebrate everything about being fun and creative, making costumes and carving pumpkins. I love being scared and making others scared, although I draw the line at some haunted houses as it is almost certain I would have a heart attack just walking into place. Unlike our American cousins we have decided to take a truly British spin on Halloween, keeping as traditional as possible with a scary twist making sure that All Hallows Eve remains of the day we celebrate the dead and send home all those that are Lost Souls.
Over the years I have dressed as many different characters including that Little Red Riding Hood, Snow White, a scary Doctor/Nurse, A Fallen Angel and this year was no different for I had gone and bought myself a proper outfit for the occasion. Unfortunately I'm bringing it home Mr Warehouse took one look and said that he could easily have pulled off the look himself. And what girlfriend would I be to deny him of this choice. And so, this weekend Mr Warehouse donde blue gingham dress, wig and red socks over his shoes in order to pull off one of the most shoddily put together Wizard of Oz outfit I think I have ever seen. And Me?! Well of course I could not go as Toto so indeed I went as the cowardly lion, complete with his heart ripped out of his chest, ready to begin his quest to find it. Now I will be honest in the fact that it took a few people some goes to get the whole idea of what we came as, but once they understood laughter soon ensued.
Now normally Mr Warehouse is not bothered at all by Halloween and I am usually planning our outfits at least a year in advance, but this year as we stood watching the fireworks in the local village Mr. Warehouse wondered outside what we would be dressed as this time next year. Since I have used up all the liquid latex and my makeup brushes will be going to get ruined, I figured that maybe we should go for a more simpler and easier look next year. I seriously considered going as Cruella DeVille and Horace who stole the puppies, however I know that I would be reaching for the liquid latex once again for the cheekbones and chin would not chisel themselves. I considered also the latest cinema releases this year including Beauty and the Beast, however yet again they would be much preparation for the dress and the suit are quite hard to come by.
I am not quite sure yet what Mr Warehouse and I will be wearing this time next year on Halloween however what I do know is that it will probably be a little bit easier to come by. The thought of simply being a vampire or even that Frankenstein and his bride was far too tame for me before, although I feel now that this would be something quite apt for the occasion and in all fairness rather easy to do. Although a small part of me feels that after so many years of prosthetics, liquid latex and toilet paper all mashed up with some homemade fake blood that I would be taking a rather easy route out of the Halloween outfit hall of fame. Who knows what the next year holds, maybe we will go as Chucky and his bride or maybe we will go at something more challenging. But one thing is for sure that in the next 12 months I am sure to have a lot more fun! And to think Mr Warehouse have another one in a few weekends time! Roll on the 90's!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Monday, 11 September 2017
The Comedown is Hard!
Olaa!
Driving Mr. Warehouse to his doctor's appointment on Friday morning I could feel the blues setting in already and it has not even been twenty-four hours yet. As the chill of autumn crept into my bones and the spitting rain settled on the windscreen of my car only to be wiped away with my automatic windscreen wipers. I remember the comedowns from the other holidays that I had, and on recalling just how bad coming back to reality after Las Vegas, I knew that I would soon change my tune. Besides, the leaves are now falling and Halloween is well on its way. Fireworks will soon be in the shops and cold winter nights will replace the long summer days. And then before you know it it will be Christmas!!!
But enough about what the next few months entail, I know that you really want to know what the rest of our holiday in Tenerife was like you nosey-beggers! So the last time we spoke Mr Warehouse had become exceedingly drunk, and to what I recount, ate a family sized bar of chocolate only to vomit it back up moments later. After we cleaned up (and when I say we I actually just mean me) and awoke the next morning, Mr. Warehouse feeling a little bit worse for wear, we decided on a relaxing day by the pool. Now you may think that lounging by the pool all day would sound like a blissful dream, however there are always those aforementioned parents that do not think their children need to start school at the same time as everyone else and as a result are encroaching on my holiday space, taking up sun beds and generally being a annoyance when trying to catch some rays!
On said afternoon as I was lounging by the pool on a bed which can only be described as made from flimsy plastic, barely able to hold up my posterior. Enjoying the sunshine and enjoying exactly how hot it was in comparison to what was previously a very cold office on a Monday afternoon. Thinking about the constant ringing of the telephone and customers calling in with problems and issues put a smile on my face all in the knowledge that I did not have to deal with it for another week (and as wonderful as that may have seemed I think I was more than happy to get back to the daily Grind today). Plugging in my headphones I was loving life jamming away with my toes to Dizzee Rascal or something by Calvin Harris pretending I was at a cool party in my head, all the while covering my head and face with my large beach hat so as not to burn my forehead and nose again.
Suddenly I felt a large drip on my belly. "Surely it can't be rain, its barely clouded over all week" I thought, "probably one of those annoying kids spraying water at me whilst their parents try to ignore them as much as everyone else" I questioned as I prepared to sit up and check. Looking around there was no children in my vicinity and not a water gun to be seen. "Hmmm" I pondered as I lay back down to crisp up. But just as I laid my head back under my massive sombrero I felt a splash of cold water hit me on the stomach and legs. There was only one person that could be. Gasping for air as the shock hit me just as much as the water had done, I whipped off my shades to look up and see Mr. Warehouse standing on the balcony clutching in empty glass and looking fairly pleased with himself. Angry, cooled-down and humoured all at the same time I dashed in and wrestled Mr. Warehouse into a tickle fight. I suppose that this is what holidays are meant for the silly occasions where you are able to be yourself and have fun.
Tuesday Mr. Warehouse and I headed out early to get one of the first buses to the local water Park. Obviously when I say local water park it probably brings to mind silly little rides for kids, dodgy plasters floating around in the pools and nearly slipping over at every turn. But this was different. This was Siam Park. Siam Park is the best Water park in the entire world, at least according to TripAdvisor anyway. Spending most of our day on the lazy river getting burnt further, Mr. Warehouse and I did venture into the Beach area where we were knocked head over heels in a man-made tidal wave which is every combination of emotions from hearing the horrified screams of people waiting to be hit by the wave, to the excited squeals of children (OK and me as an adult) as they watch it hurtling towards them, ready to sweep them away. Mr. Warehouse braved a few rides with me as well including a dreaded "red ride". The Park as a whole follows a very simple traffic light system whereby the rides are labelled from Green which is very plain and simple family friendly rides, all the way up to read which is death-defying, exciting and wet all at the same time. I attempted a few videos of some of the rides and experiences we had in the park as well as the other things we did about the week, however despite being on the continent where buying drugs on the street is seemingly readily available they still take health and safety very seriously and as a result I was not allowed to film on most of the rides in Siam Park.
Our last full day on the island I planned to spend in Paradise on mine and Mr. Warehouse's little private beach we found, however the boyfriend thought that it would be a good idea to gain some cultural knowledge about the island and Discover some of the delights surrounding the resorts. In a last ditch attempt to find something to do we booked ourselves on an excursion to tour the volcanic mountain range of Teide national park as well as visiting the mountains it's self. As beautiful as it was it was nothing in comparison to the Grand Canyon, for I am afraid to say that once you have seen one rock you have seen them all. When you look at the fact that Mount Teide national park could fit into the Grand Canyon national park over thirty-times, it certainly gives you a bit of scale. Travelling across the mountain range we headed to some little seaside towns where we got to have a spot of lunch before soaking in the beautiful island of Tenerife in all its tropical glory. Tackling the treacherous roads that lead up and down of the mountain range I was certainly glad of getting a coach and not hiring a car as I am not sure that I would have been able to hold my nerves whilst going round some of the hairpin turns we had to manoeuvre.
Alas though our holiday had to come to an end at some point. We had our pooch to come back to and our lovely little flat which Miss Tweedle-Dee had been looking after the both of them whilst Mr. Warehouse and I were away. Since being back I think people are accustomed now to thinking that Mr. Warehouse and I are constantly holidaying and are planning next years already. Whilst I would love to have a job of simply writing reviews and going on trips to just write and blog and vlog all the time, that is not reality and thus I need to return back to my normal office job in order to save up for the next time we go away. Where Mr. Warehouse and I will go nobody knows;; Prague, Budapest, Krakow, Bratislava. But one thing is for sure that the next few weeks I will certainly be keeping my eyes peeled for a good deal through one of the budget Airlines.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Driving Mr. Warehouse to his doctor's appointment on Friday morning I could feel the blues setting in already and it has not even been twenty-four hours yet. As the chill of autumn crept into my bones and the spitting rain settled on the windscreen of my car only to be wiped away with my automatic windscreen wipers. I remember the comedowns from the other holidays that I had, and on recalling just how bad coming back to reality after Las Vegas, I knew that I would soon change my tune. Besides, the leaves are now falling and Halloween is well on its way. Fireworks will soon be in the shops and cold winter nights will replace the long summer days. And then before you know it it will be Christmas!!!
But enough about what the next few months entail, I know that you really want to know what the rest of our holiday in Tenerife was like you nosey-beggers! So the last time we spoke Mr Warehouse had become exceedingly drunk, and to what I recount, ate a family sized bar of chocolate only to vomit it back up moments later. After we cleaned up (and when I say we I actually just mean me) and awoke the next morning, Mr. Warehouse feeling a little bit worse for wear, we decided on a relaxing day by the pool. Now you may think that lounging by the pool all day would sound like a blissful dream, however there are always those aforementioned parents that do not think their children need to start school at the same time as everyone else and as a result are encroaching on my holiday space, taking up sun beds and generally being a annoyance when trying to catch some rays!
On said afternoon as I was lounging by the pool on a bed which can only be described as made from flimsy plastic, barely able to hold up my posterior. Enjoying the sunshine and enjoying exactly how hot it was in comparison to what was previously a very cold office on a Monday afternoon. Thinking about the constant ringing of the telephone and customers calling in with problems and issues put a smile on my face all in the knowledge that I did not have to deal with it for another week (and as wonderful as that may have seemed I think I was more than happy to get back to the daily Grind today). Plugging in my headphones I was loving life jamming away with my toes to Dizzee Rascal or something by Calvin Harris pretending I was at a cool party in my head, all the while covering my head and face with my large beach hat so as not to burn my forehead and nose again.
Suddenly I felt a large drip on my belly. "Surely it can't be rain, its barely clouded over all week" I thought, "probably one of those annoying kids spraying water at me whilst their parents try to ignore them as much as everyone else" I questioned as I prepared to sit up and check. Looking around there was no children in my vicinity and not a water gun to be seen. "Hmmm" I pondered as I lay back down to crisp up. But just as I laid my head back under my massive sombrero I felt a splash of cold water hit me on the stomach and legs. There was only one person that could be. Gasping for air as the shock hit me just as much as the water had done, I whipped off my shades to look up and see Mr. Warehouse standing on the balcony clutching in empty glass and looking fairly pleased with himself. Angry, cooled-down and humoured all at the same time I dashed in and wrestled Mr. Warehouse into a tickle fight. I suppose that this is what holidays are meant for the silly occasions where you are able to be yourself and have fun.
Tuesday Mr. Warehouse and I headed out early to get one of the first buses to the local water Park. Obviously when I say local water park it probably brings to mind silly little rides for kids, dodgy plasters floating around in the pools and nearly slipping over at every turn. But this was different. This was Siam Park. Siam Park is the best Water park in the entire world, at least according to TripAdvisor anyway. Spending most of our day on the lazy river getting burnt further, Mr. Warehouse and I did venture into the Beach area where we were knocked head over heels in a man-made tidal wave which is every combination of emotions from hearing the horrified screams of people waiting to be hit by the wave, to the excited squeals of children (OK and me as an adult) as they watch it hurtling towards them, ready to sweep them away. Mr. Warehouse braved a few rides with me as well including a dreaded "red ride". The Park as a whole follows a very simple traffic light system whereby the rides are labelled from Green which is very plain and simple family friendly rides, all the way up to read which is death-defying, exciting and wet all at the same time. I attempted a few videos of some of the rides and experiences we had in the park as well as the other things we did about the week, however despite being on the continent where buying drugs on the street is seemingly readily available they still take health and safety very seriously and as a result I was not allowed to film on most of the rides in Siam Park.
Our last full day on the island I planned to spend in Paradise on mine and Mr. Warehouse's little private beach we found, however the boyfriend thought that it would be a good idea to gain some cultural knowledge about the island and Discover some of the delights surrounding the resorts. In a last ditch attempt to find something to do we booked ourselves on an excursion to tour the volcanic mountain range of Teide national park as well as visiting the mountains it's self. As beautiful as it was it was nothing in comparison to the Grand Canyon, for I am afraid to say that once you have seen one rock you have seen them all. When you look at the fact that Mount Teide national park could fit into the Grand Canyon national park over thirty-times, it certainly gives you a bit of scale. Travelling across the mountain range we headed to some little seaside towns where we got to have a spot of lunch before soaking in the beautiful island of Tenerife in all its tropical glory. Tackling the treacherous roads that lead up and down of the mountain range I was certainly glad of getting a coach and not hiring a car as I am not sure that I would have been able to hold my nerves whilst going round some of the hairpin turns we had to manoeuvre.
Alas though our holiday had to come to an end at some point. We had our pooch to come back to and our lovely little flat which Miss Tweedle-Dee had been looking after the both of them whilst Mr. Warehouse and I were away. Since being back I think people are accustomed now to thinking that Mr. Warehouse and I are constantly holidaying and are planning next years already. Whilst I would love to have a job of simply writing reviews and going on trips to just write and blog and vlog all the time, that is not reality and thus I need to return back to my normal office job in order to save up for the next time we go away. Where Mr. Warehouse and I will go nobody knows;; Prague, Budapest, Krakow, Bratislava. But one thing is for sure that the next few weeks I will certainly be keeping my eyes peeled for a good deal through one of the budget Airlines.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Monday, 3 July 2017
Frappuchi-NOOO!
Hiya!
Week done I was certainly glad to be out of the office and ready for a night of partying. It had certainly been one of those weeks, you know the ones, they seemed to drag on forever and never ending stream of customers that have multiple first world problems that you are the sole and only the proprietor of. It felt as though at one point that the week would never end. Thank fuck Friday came round quick enough.
One of the girls at work was become pregnant, and being due in a few weeks Friday was her last day at work. So we did what any normal company would do and other than throwing her a lovely baby shower, decided to have a nice meal out together to celebrate her leaving. In some circumstances this may have been at the end of the night out maybe even finishing off with some cocktails or at a nice bar around the corner from the restaurant, however, this was not the case. Now by no stretch is the company that I work for anything in comparison to what a night out on the tiles was where Mr Warehouse and I met was, but this weekend certainly showed me exactly how crazy and mad it can all get when we've all had a few drinks.
Finishing a lovely meal at one of the local restaurants to the town centre, I barely have enough time to swallow the last glass of wine let alone the rest of the bottle that I had left before I was being ushered out of the restaurant ready to hit the town. Enough with the fanciful natures of having a nice dinner between work colleagues it was now time to get shit faced. I shall not go into the details of what happened on Friday night however I think that it is safe to say that we all had a thoroughly good time.
Waking Saturday morning was difficult and I did in all honesty consider just staying up and waiting to get ready to go to Miss Tweedle-Dee's in order to share the journey down to visit Miss Tweedle-Dumb one last time in her Basingstoke flat. I was certainly feeling fragile by the time I woke up at 8am Saturday morning. I suppose on a plus side I had not been sick so I was a winner already however I didn't come home with my Tolkien subway as normal, only to be found hours later by an angry Mr Warehouse waking me from my slumber with explaining why I was on the toilet and cradling a six-inch half-eaten sandwich.
Rushing around to get my bag packed, the dog walked and grab a coffee to sober up I headed out to the car and race to Miss Tweedle-Dee's house by 10am. It what certainly cutting it fine however I did get there just as the clock struck ten. Parking up I prayed to the gods that my friend needed to get some petrol and I could jump out the park to get some car snacks. I was hungry as soon as I woke up although with the copious amounts of alcohol I drank the night before, I wanted to make sure that it was definitely hunger and not just a jelly-belly. The 40-minute journey to my left definitely reassured myself that in actual fact I was just in need of food.
Filling up in more ways than one we were on our way to see our bestie whom I had heard suffered an even worse night than me. Chattering all the way down to Berkshire we had endured the M25 traffic, and now, with less than 10 minutes left in our journey we decided to pull into Fleet Services as we normally do in order to get a Starbucks. Two chocolate-chip cream Frappe's and a coffee caramel Frappuccino later we were on the road again and next stop Miss Tweedle-Dumb.
Parking the car we grabbed what we needed and headed inside. I was carrying Miss Tweedle-Dee's sandwich, my handbag and my coffee caramel Frappuccino when I approached the infamous steps of doom. Uneven and probably the shortest one being at least a foot high I was cautious in my approach. I thought o myself as I took my first tentative steps towards the stone stairs "I have managed this in the dead of winter, cold and wet and icy. I though I would have fallen either up or down them alread... " OH FUCK!
Loosing my step in beloved buckled oxblood ankle boots, I stumbled and thinking that I had found my footing I must have counteracted it, doing so had caused me to stumble even further. Shouting out to my friend letting her know that I had screwed up, Miss Tweedle-Dee turned around at just the right moment in order to see me fly into the air. Knowing in my head but there is nothing I could do to salvage myself or indeed anything I was carrying, I took off from the first of four very steep and Stone steps. Crash landing and skidding to a stop, I heard the awful sound of my cherished ice cold coffee caramel Frappuccino hitting the floor, splashing for at least a meter in front of me.
Although in most circumstances I would have made a full recovery and be back on my feet in seconds, even before someone had asked if I was OK this was not the case. With it all happening so quickly I had not a moment to think or indeed plan my comeback. As such I also had no time, or indeed spare hands to grab onto anything and as such had gone flying. You would have thought that the normal response would be drop everything and check that your best friend is OK and that they haven't broken anything or badly injured themselves. But as the pain set in, I realised that this was not the case and whilst the Two aforementioned chocolate-chip cream Frappe's had been neatly placed on the floor beside myself, it was not to check that I was still alive. Oh no, it was for my friend to reach into her bag and pull out her camera, capturing the embarrassing moment for all to see, forcing me to stay put until the picture has been captured.
Not that of course the neighbours couldn't see that is. As with many parts of the country including my hometown of Houghton Regis, this area of Basingstoke was a council estate. As search the double-storey buildings that overlooked the path leading to Miss Tweedle-Dumb's house. Not being able to see due to the fact that my sunglasses had become entangled in my hair and in front of my face, I could just feel the curtains twitching as people came to see what was happening outside. With a loud thud, the sploshing drink hitting the floor and unrelenting and never-ending fits laughter, I would have come to the window too in order to see what all the commotion was all about, only to realise that it is some silly fuck who has fallen off the ridiculously high steps again. So much were the screams and howls of giggles erupted from Miss Tweedle-Dee that I am surprised Miss Tweedle-Dumb didn't come rushing out to my help.
After picking myself up off the floor and assessing the damage done I was devastated to learn that there had been a worse casualty in all this. My Starbucks coffee caramel Frappuccino was gone and with nothing left in my little plastic cup I was close to tears. Heading in to tell of the hilarious moment I became superman and show Miss Tweedle-Dumb and her boyfriend the snap I sniffed and hobbled my way to the front room and slouched on the sofa in pain, not just of my body but also of the thirst-quenching loss.
With the rest of the weekend passing in a haze of fun, family events and even more laughter I know that in time I will heal the bruises on my pins, but wont pass so easily is the day I flew with my Frappe.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Week done I was certainly glad to be out of the office and ready for a night of partying. It had certainly been one of those weeks, you know the ones, they seemed to drag on forever and never ending stream of customers that have multiple first world problems that you are the sole and only the proprietor of. It felt as though at one point that the week would never end. Thank fuck Friday came round quick enough.
One of the girls at work was become pregnant, and being due in a few weeks Friday was her last day at work. So we did what any normal company would do and other than throwing her a lovely baby shower, decided to have a nice meal out together to celebrate her leaving. In some circumstances this may have been at the end of the night out maybe even finishing off with some cocktails or at a nice bar around the corner from the restaurant, however, this was not the case. Now by no stretch is the company that I work for anything in comparison to what a night out on the tiles was where Mr Warehouse and I met was, but this weekend certainly showed me exactly how crazy and mad it can all get when we've all had a few drinks.
Finishing a lovely meal at one of the local restaurants to the town centre, I barely have enough time to swallow the last glass of wine let alone the rest of the bottle that I had left before I was being ushered out of the restaurant ready to hit the town. Enough with the fanciful natures of having a nice dinner between work colleagues it was now time to get shit faced. I shall not go into the details of what happened on Friday night however I think that it is safe to say that we all had a thoroughly good time.
Waking Saturday morning was difficult and I did in all honesty consider just staying up and waiting to get ready to go to Miss Tweedle-Dee's in order to share the journey down to visit Miss Tweedle-Dumb one last time in her Basingstoke flat. I was certainly feeling fragile by the time I woke up at 8am Saturday morning. I suppose on a plus side I had not been sick so I was a winner already however I didn't come home with my Tolkien subway as normal, only to be found hours later by an angry Mr Warehouse waking me from my slumber with explaining why I was on the toilet and cradling a six-inch half-eaten sandwich.
Rushing around to get my bag packed, the dog walked and grab a coffee to sober up I headed out to the car and race to Miss Tweedle-Dee's house by 10am. It what certainly cutting it fine however I did get there just as the clock struck ten. Parking up I prayed to the gods that my friend needed to get some petrol and I could jump out the park to get some car snacks. I was hungry as soon as I woke up although with the copious amounts of alcohol I drank the night before, I wanted to make sure that it was definitely hunger and not just a jelly-belly. The 40-minute journey to my left definitely reassured myself that in actual fact I was just in need of food.
Filling up in more ways than one we were on our way to see our bestie whom I had heard suffered an even worse night than me. Chattering all the way down to Berkshire we had endured the M25 traffic, and now, with less than 10 minutes left in our journey we decided to pull into Fleet Services as we normally do in order to get a Starbucks. Two chocolate-chip cream Frappe's and a coffee caramel Frappuccino later we were on the road again and next stop Miss Tweedle-Dumb.
Parking the car we grabbed what we needed and headed inside. I was carrying Miss Tweedle-Dee's sandwich, my handbag and my coffee caramel Frappuccino when I approached the infamous steps of doom. Uneven and probably the shortest one being at least a foot high I was cautious in my approach. I thought o myself as I took my first tentative steps towards the stone stairs "I have managed this in the dead of winter, cold and wet and icy. I though I would have fallen either up or down them alread... " OH FUCK!
Loosing my step in beloved buckled oxblood ankle boots, I stumbled and thinking that I had found my footing I must have counteracted it, doing so had caused me to stumble even further. Shouting out to my friend letting her know that I had screwed up, Miss Tweedle-Dee turned around at just the right moment in order to see me fly into the air. Knowing in my head but there is nothing I could do to salvage myself or indeed anything I was carrying, I took off from the first of four very steep and Stone steps. Crash landing and skidding to a stop, I heard the awful sound of my cherished ice cold coffee caramel Frappuccino hitting the floor, splashing for at least a meter in front of me.
Although in most circumstances I would have made a full recovery and be back on my feet in seconds, even before someone had asked if I was OK this was not the case. With it all happening so quickly I had not a moment to think or indeed plan my comeback. As such I also had no time, or indeed spare hands to grab onto anything and as such had gone flying. You would have thought that the normal response would be drop everything and check that your best friend is OK and that they haven't broken anything or badly injured themselves. But as the pain set in, I realised that this was not the case and whilst the Two aforementioned chocolate-chip cream Frappe's had been neatly placed on the floor beside myself, it was not to check that I was still alive. Oh no, it was for my friend to reach into her bag and pull out her camera, capturing the embarrassing moment for all to see, forcing me to stay put until the picture has been captured.
Not that of course the neighbours couldn't see that is. As with many parts of the country including my hometown of Houghton Regis, this area of Basingstoke was a council estate. As search the double-storey buildings that overlooked the path leading to Miss Tweedle-Dumb's house. Not being able to see due to the fact that my sunglasses had become entangled in my hair and in front of my face, I could just feel the curtains twitching as people came to see what was happening outside. With a loud thud, the sploshing drink hitting the floor and unrelenting and never-ending fits laughter, I would have come to the window too in order to see what all the commotion was all about, only to realise that it is some silly fuck who has fallen off the ridiculously high steps again. So much were the screams and howls of giggles erupted from Miss Tweedle-Dee that I am surprised Miss Tweedle-Dumb didn't come rushing out to my help.
After picking myself up off the floor and assessing the damage done I was devastated to learn that there had been a worse casualty in all this. My Starbucks coffee caramel Frappuccino was gone and with nothing left in my little plastic cup I was close to tears. Heading in to tell of the hilarious moment I became superman and show Miss Tweedle-Dumb and her boyfriend the snap I sniffed and hobbled my way to the front room and slouched on the sofa in pain, not just of my body but also of the thirst-quenching loss.
With the rest of the weekend passing in a haze of fun, family events and even more laughter I know that in time I will heal the bruises on my pins, but wont pass so easily is the day I flew with my Frappe.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
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