Evening All,
Following last week's final adventures in my little Vivienne, she is awaiting her final journey to Car heaven as is still on my driveway. The 2011-plate little orange Ford Fiesta, with her five-door hatchback body and a 1.4L engine she certainly was everything I had ever hoped for in my first car. Viv's multi-functional steering wheel, automatic headlights and rain sensors I was please that I had experienced my first real taste of the open road in her. But alas all good things must come to an end and this week and I will hopefully be welcoming in a new car to my driveway, other than the swanky black Vauxhall Corsa I have had the pleasure of driving for the last few days.
After a heavy night of drinking, dancing and laughing with Miss Hackney and Miss Sugar-Coat, I was not sure I could even look at a car, let alone drive one. But nevertheless, taking time out on Saturday to have a race day with my fiance, Mr Warehouse, at the Bruntingthorpe track in the Harborough district of Leicestershire was certainly one way to get over a fragile head. The best way though, Im not so sure!? A Christmas present from last year from Mr. Warehouse, he had certainly been listening to me when I was banging on about driving a fast car round a race-track. And so I drove the hired Vauxhall Corsa through the country lanes and even avoided a few horses on the road not to mention the sheep crossing too.
I had a fantastic day driving a Mazda MX5 race car. Complete with full roll cage, race suspension and mechanical backup, this was the perfect car for Bruntingthorpe Airbase circuit and has left me wanting more. And so I booked the Bae and me to experience a Ariel Atom Passenger ride where Mr. Warehouse and I hit the tarmac for a supercharged Ariel Atom. The Atom houses a Jacskson Racing Supercharged Honda i-VTEC engine. Stripped to it's bare essentials, a chassis, wheels, engine, gearbox and suspension gives the Atom a better power to weight ratio than the mighty Bugati Veyron. Experiencing one of the quickest cars with a 0.60 in less than 3 seconds was exciting and a great day out and was sure to get our adrenaline pumping.
And after waiting patiently for the last few days I finally had the call I was expecting from the insurance company. Answering all the relevant security questions I prepared myself for the inevitable conversation of being paid barely enough to pay of my finance deal, let alone buy another car.
"Sorry can I just get you to clarify that again for me?" I asked, desperately trying to process exactly what the call handler has just told me.
"Yes certainly madam. So the car's total value is £8,500.00 give or take. Now obviously we have the insurance excess and a few admin charge that we need to take off before we pay the finance company. Although once the insurance company has paid off the finance deal and taken the relevant fees we will be transferring the remainder £4,200.00 over to yourself. Is this OK?" the call handler explained. I was shocked to say the least! Considering I had already bought and financed the car at quite a high rate of interest I was not expecting a single penny back to me at all. As long as the finance deal was settled in full be it partly an insurance pay-out and partly my asset protection insurance to cover the rest, I considered walking away from the situation washing my hands and starting afresh.
"Hello? Miss? Are you there?" the friendly young gentleman said on the other line. Confirming some further details the the call ended and I expected to receive a email or phone call shortly after explaining that there had been a mistake in the finance settlement.
However, less than a few hours later I received an email confirming exactly what I was told over the phone and that I should be expecting payment within the next forty-eight hours. Still in shock, I thought of didn't really believe it until I saw my bank account the next day which read a full four digits on my screen. Excited I started looking for my new car right away, all in the knowledge that I could receive a phone call any second telling me that I would need to hand my hire car back. This would probably have not been such a big deal had I been living in Bedford town center as before, however as I am now a country bumpkin living out in the sticks of Cranfield I have no choice but to need a car. Although I was certainly not going to be making the same mistake as I did last week when I eagerly called the insurance company so I could get the ball rolling following a message from the estimator's garage.
Mostly over the last few days I have been spent looking online at car dealerships websites for any car that tickles my fancy. Obviously I am not looking for much in my next car however I would like some specifications I have since become accustomed to. Firstly on my shopping list is the price as I would like to keep it under the same value that I am already paying on a monthly basis. Secondly, I need the car to be at least a 1.4 engine as anything smaller would be taking a back step from my previous vehicle. Ideally I would like the car to be newer with less mileage on the clock. If I can continue with a petrol engine then that would be fantastic but it must be a manual, only for the fear that if I was to get an automatic with my lazy brain I would forget how to drive stick. Mod-Cons that I would be looking for may include a heated windscreen to save time in the wintery months, a heated steering wheel for exactly the same reason and even a touch screen navigation system.
However that being said, I think I may have already met my new car. Scrolling online I found a cute little Fiat 500L in red. The 1.3 liter, 5-door multijet needs to be moved closer for me to have a proper look around the car and even have a whizz around town but with just over thirty-thousand miles on it 2013 plate clock, it was certainly a steal at £140 per month on a Hire Purchase finance deal.
Now I know what your thinking, walking away from this unscathed and essentially up n an investment, why didn't I consider a brand spanking new motor? The fact is that it would depreciate by over a third just by driving it off the forecourt which is and always has been a huge factor in why I chose second-hand over new not just the first time buying a car but also the second time too. With no noticeable damage or scratches to the paintwork and it's almighty diesel engine I am certainly looking forward to receiving my new car and hopefully having this one for good!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Showing posts with label Late Night. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Late Night. Show all posts
Monday, 1 April 2019
Monday, 18 March 2019
Beware - The Stagsden Hag!
Evening All,
Standing in the freezing cold and blustery wind that I thought was going to take me off like Mary Poppins, my frustration and anger was growing minute by minute that we sat in the car park of our future wedding venue, Stagsden Village Hall. For weeks I had been trying to arrange an appointment whereby I could view the building again with a fresh pair of eyes and alongside my fiance Mr Warehouse after we had booked it for our special day. Finally, after some communication issues, I was told that the original lady though we had met on site the first time that we viewed The Village Hall that she has now moved on and how work commitments meant she could not dedicate enough time to the running and upkeep of the village hall and its users.
With this in mind, I had been put in touch with another lady who assured me that she would be here. The difference was that we were not alone and accompanied also by a potential caterer who had met us on site in order to see the facilities that he would be working with in order to give us some scope for a menu.
"This was getting ridiculous" I raged to Mr. Warehouse and the caterer as the wind howled and I stormed around the property. It was now nearly half an hour later than planned and after getting up at the crack of dawn in order to make it for my 9:30am appointment, I was seriously vexed at being seemingly stood up. All things considered, the delay would not have been a huge problem had I been alone and had not consumed 4 bottles of wine the previous evening along with Miss Hackney who had come round for gossip and to offload on the week she had.
Fragile to say the least I had been up until about midnight drinking only to then get up early the next morning in order to drive Mr Warehouse to work at approximately 5:30am. So yes, I am sure that my patience was quite thin anyway and my temper was wearing by each minute that slipped by.
"I could have been in bed asleep, or binge-watching craft and life hacks on YouTube, or maybe even hitting the road for a morning run?!" I fumed to my entourage. So many more things that I could be doing better than standing around waiting for someone to turn up if at all. I was constantly calling the numbers that I had for the village hall which were only one or two. When no one answered I decided to email an urgent request to the contacts I had, and again to no avail.
Just as we had discussed with the caterer that there was to become a time where none of us could wait around all day, a large red people carrier came bungling into the gravel car park and out stepped a woman in her mid-thirties and a gentleman about ten-years-older. She asked for my name and said that she was here to set up for a party the following day. I jokingly said with a little bit of annoyance in my voice that I hoped she had a number and had prearranged an appointment since no one had actually turned up for ours. The lady and gentleman explained that they had booked the whole the following day for a party and that they were there today to set up in preparation and to collect the keys.
It was at this point that I started to get angrier and started to wonder if something sinister had happened. Just as the caterer had come to say he was unable to stay any longer a silver sports car come whizzing into the gravel car park, nearly missing some of us standing around and pulled up to a halt outside the front door. Out popped a chirpy retiree who had mentioned "good morning". Barely being able to hold back after waiting around for nearly an hour I marched over and asked what had happened which made her late for our appointment. She scowled back at me the caterer and Mr Warehouse and proceeded to explain that our meeting was at 10:30am and she was not late.
Taking a deep breath and mustering all I could by not wanting to smack a bitch in the face, I allowed her to open up the village hall as I explained that I was not the 10:30am appointment and that this was the poor woman and her gentleman friend behind me that had arrived on time to set up the venue.
"Oh yes well there must have been a mistake and I do apologise but it is of course run by volunteers don't you know" was her response, to which I could handle no more. I made the gestures that we should probably rearrange a better and more suitable time that would be convenient for both of us since there was already someone setting up the hall to which the retired old hag just ushered us in and said to look around. I didn't feel comfortable and explained that the lady and gentleman in the car park had hired the hall and were clearly setting up for an event that they did not need anyone wondering around taking photos or getting in the way when they have hired and paid good money. On hearing this, however, the lady who was setting up the hall with her friend was quite sweet and had said they did not mind us walking around and taking photos if necessary as it was clear there had been a major misunderstanding. So nice!
Accepting I walked off with my caterer in toe, dashing for the kitchen, Mr Warehouse following and maybe throwing a tut or sigh about the place as he went. However last Stagsden Village Hall is large in comparison to its other contenders we had on the list, it was no stately home and on many occasion, I kept bumping into either the lady and her gentleman friend setting up or the old bag herself. At some point, a group of two or three workmen came in to assess the state of the foyer to lay down some new flooring and then a few moments later another elderly gentleman joined the "Stagsden Hag", tinkering about with the Gas and Electric metres in the middle of the corridor.
Frustrated beyond belief I think the woman figured that I wasn't best pleased that her and tried to stay out of my way. When it came time to leave I asked her for her mobile number so that this incident would not happen again. Yet again she ran off the bullshit spiel that this is "run by volunteers and there must have been a mistake", that was until I pulled up the email which clearly stated the date and time of which our appointment was. Now I acknowledge that as a side note I was probably a little ratty that day. A combination of very little sleep, lack of food and my bloodstream being made up of at least 30% Rose I was in a foul mood. Add in the fact that it was incredibly windy and very cold as well, all whilst I was on time (which anyone who knows me knows this is a rarity in itself) and someone else was late. I suppose in a way that I have blown this a little out of proportion but the way I see it is that I am sure I will laugh about this in years to come however at the moment I am still narked. Mr Warehouse and I left there Saturday morning, hoping against all hopes, that the "Stagsden Hag" would not be the one handing over our keys the day before our wedding next year.
Standing in the freezing cold and blustery wind that I thought was going to take me off like Mary Poppins, my frustration and anger was growing minute by minute that we sat in the car park of our future wedding venue, Stagsden Village Hall. For weeks I had been trying to arrange an appointment whereby I could view the building again with a fresh pair of eyes and alongside my fiance Mr Warehouse after we had booked it for our special day. Finally, after some communication issues, I was told that the original lady though we had met on site the first time that we viewed The Village Hall that she has now moved on and how work commitments meant she could not dedicate enough time to the running and upkeep of the village hall and its users.
With this in mind, I had been put in touch with another lady who assured me that she would be here. The difference was that we were not alone and accompanied also by a potential caterer who had met us on site in order to see the facilities that he would be working with in order to give us some scope for a menu.
"This was getting ridiculous" I raged to Mr. Warehouse and the caterer as the wind howled and I stormed around the property. It was now nearly half an hour later than planned and after getting up at the crack of dawn in order to make it for my 9:30am appointment, I was seriously vexed at being seemingly stood up. All things considered, the delay would not have been a huge problem had I been alone and had not consumed 4 bottles of wine the previous evening along with Miss Hackney who had come round for gossip and to offload on the week she had.
Fragile to say the least I had been up until about midnight drinking only to then get up early the next morning in order to drive Mr Warehouse to work at approximately 5:30am. So yes, I am sure that my patience was quite thin anyway and my temper was wearing by each minute that slipped by.
"I could have been in bed asleep, or binge-watching craft and life hacks on YouTube, or maybe even hitting the road for a morning run?!" I fumed to my entourage. So many more things that I could be doing better than standing around waiting for someone to turn up if at all. I was constantly calling the numbers that I had for the village hall which were only one or two. When no one answered I decided to email an urgent request to the contacts I had, and again to no avail.
Just as we had discussed with the caterer that there was to become a time where none of us could wait around all day, a large red people carrier came bungling into the gravel car park and out stepped a woman in her mid-thirties and a gentleman about ten-years-older. She asked for my name and said that she was here to set up for a party the following day. I jokingly said with a little bit of annoyance in my voice that I hoped she had a number and had prearranged an appointment since no one had actually turned up for ours. The lady and gentleman explained that they had booked the whole the following day for a party and that they were there today to set up in preparation and to collect the keys.
It was at this point that I started to get angrier and started to wonder if something sinister had happened. Just as the caterer had come to say he was unable to stay any longer a silver sports car come whizzing into the gravel car park, nearly missing some of us standing around and pulled up to a halt outside the front door. Out popped a chirpy retiree who had mentioned "good morning". Barely being able to hold back after waiting around for nearly an hour I marched over and asked what had happened which made her late for our appointment. She scowled back at me the caterer and Mr Warehouse and proceeded to explain that our meeting was at 10:30am and she was not late.
Taking a deep breath and mustering all I could by not wanting to smack a bitch in the face, I allowed her to open up the village hall as I explained that I was not the 10:30am appointment and that this was the poor woman and her gentleman friend behind me that had arrived on time to set up the venue.
"Oh yes well there must have been a mistake and I do apologise but it is of course run by volunteers don't you know" was her response, to which I could handle no more. I made the gestures that we should probably rearrange a better and more suitable time that would be convenient for both of us since there was already someone setting up the hall to which the retired old hag just ushered us in and said to look around. I didn't feel comfortable and explained that the lady and gentleman in the car park had hired the hall and were clearly setting up for an event that they did not need anyone wondering around taking photos or getting in the way when they have hired and paid good money. On hearing this, however, the lady who was setting up the hall with her friend was quite sweet and had said they did not mind us walking around and taking photos if necessary as it was clear there had been a major misunderstanding. So nice!
Accepting I walked off with my caterer in toe, dashing for the kitchen, Mr Warehouse following and maybe throwing a tut or sigh about the place as he went. However last Stagsden Village Hall is large in comparison to its other contenders we had on the list, it was no stately home and on many occasion, I kept bumping into either the lady and her gentleman friend setting up or the old bag herself. At some point, a group of two or three workmen came in to assess the state of the foyer to lay down some new flooring and then a few moments later another elderly gentleman joined the "Stagsden Hag", tinkering about with the Gas and Electric metres in the middle of the corridor.
Frustrated beyond belief I think the woman figured that I wasn't best pleased that her and tried to stay out of my way. When it came time to leave I asked her for her mobile number so that this incident would not happen again. Yet again she ran off the bullshit spiel that this is "run by volunteers and there must have been a mistake", that was until I pulled up the email which clearly stated the date and time of which our appointment was. Now I acknowledge that as a side note I was probably a little ratty that day. A combination of very little sleep, lack of food and my bloodstream being made up of at least 30% Rose I was in a foul mood. Add in the fact that it was incredibly windy and very cold as well, all whilst I was on time (which anyone who knows me knows this is a rarity in itself) and someone else was late. I suppose in a way that I have blown this a little out of proportion but the way I see it is that I am sure I will laugh about this in years to come however at the moment I am still narked. Mr Warehouse and I left there Saturday morning, hoping against all hopes, that the "Stagsden Hag" would not be the one handing over our keys the day before our wedding next year.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Monday, 5 February 2018
Greener Grass and Flecks of Gold
Evening All,
Only a week after payday I really wondered how I was so poor. I did not have to look far though as my bank balance for our new house fund was slowly growing. Soon I hoped that I would see that little comma appear proving that I was doing the right thing by saving all my pennies but I never knew how stressful and broke it would make me feel knowing I have money but it is tied up and away. Now don't get me wrong I knew that this would not be an easy journey, saving every scrap of money that both me and Mr Warehouse have between us was certainly going to be a struggle especially when I am giving up on my summer holiday this year with Mr. Warehouse, something that makes me deeply sad and frustrated for this was going to be the year that we were going to have a blowout holiday were by the head off somewhere hot by the beach relaxing for a week or two.
Anyway enough with the same old same old, and back to the good old good old. That's right, after far far too long apart, me, Miss Hackney and Miss Sugarcoat along with her latest Beau met in a local eatery for some Mexican food and what I hoped would be a change to the normal schedule of shots, shots, shots, shots, shots, shots! It had been a long time since I saw them and it felt like I was going back to something familiar. I enjoy their company separately with Miss Hackney's laughter and down to earth approach mixed in with some gritty tales of the dating game (some more horrific and hilarious than mine I might add) and Miss Sugarcoat's intellectual conversation and ideas on life along with the added spice of strong controversial opinions (some of which I back entirely and some I try to hide from and pretend she is not with me), yet together we seem to create so much noise that it is sometimes hard to hear myself think.
Harping back to the good old times in which we used to fart around in the office not doing much work or course, we reminisced well into the evening and chatted about life as we know it now with our new relationships, friendships and jobs. I had so much to tell them as they had for me although I felt that we were all talking over each other and that the noisy restaurant did not help. Both Miss Hackney and Miss Sugarcoat seemed to have developed and carved out good careers for themselves, expanding on their talents and skills in order to obtain well paying jobs. This left me slightly questioning if I ever made the right decision moving, even though I knew in my heart that's a good decision was made. OK so I am not earning £35,000 working for a plumbing and heating company and I am also not spending my evenings and weekends attending events that I am hosting in aid of cosmetic beauty. Am I happy I jumped ship? Yes certainly and with everything that has happened in the last year and a half I think I have a fairly good deal where I am at the moment especially given the pay, ever-growing relationships both in and outside of the office as well as the fact that I now have a similar relationship with my engineers as I had before with my old ones.
As the shots kept coming I knew that my hopes of a quiet and sophisticated chat over dinner would not be the case this evening. Maybe another night I thought. Maybe a quiet evening in with a bottle or two and a comfy sofa to put the world to rights would be just what we all needed to calm down a bit for the atmosphere of a busy restaurant on a Friday night and then a loud pub with DJ were probably not the ideal places to share stories from the last eighteen months or so since I left. This was not to say that I was not enjoying myself knocking back shots of tequila whilst sipping on Prosecco, trying to keep an ounce of classy about the evening of course. As we rambled through the evening, drinking more and chatting less I was enjoying myself but in a different kind of way that I was used to and an alternative way I would if I was with my current work colleagues.
I suppose in the grand old scheme of things that this is the big difference between my old workplace and where I work now. The majority of the time that I spent with my old work colleagues was getting drunk and talking about shite. That is not to say that given a problem or issue I was experiencing I could not talk to my old work colleagues and looking back on my time there I got some brilliant advice from some amazing people who I would like to consider even now as friends despite not talking in quite some time. A night out on the tiles now consists of going round to someone else to pre-drinking in a sophisticated fashion all whilst helping each other to get dressed and gossipping as women do, then heading into town for a nice meal and some cocktails afterwards. And whilst I don't feel like I have achieved that level of conversation with anyone of my current work colleagues at this moment in time, that is not to say that if something was bugging me or I needed to talk to someone that I would have no one to talk openly to as I am sure that there would be plenty of people to offer a sympathetic ear - I hope at least.
Nevertheless my Friday evening spent with my old work colleagues or certainly a laugh and certainly something that we will make sure not to leave so long again. Isn't it funny I thought to myself and as I later tried to explain to Man-Brain Mr. Warehouse - You spend a good majority of your life working and those people you work with, if you are close, know everything about you and your life as you do about them and theirs. From Monday to Friday, Nine 'til Five you spill your guts about how your feeling and what happened at home or over the weekend. The kids, the other-half, the house, the in-laws and everything and everyone in between. You get to know their social networks and circles without ever actually meeting them and are able to provide comfort and warmth in a time of need. They know your relationships better than maybe you do yourself and can even offer advise that could change everything. With the staples and cellotape and paperclips galore they help you as much as you help them in times of joy, sorrow, support and laughter, colleagues like mine at my old job were like literal tiny flecks of gold dust, blowing into your life five-days-a-week.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Only a week after payday I really wondered how I was so poor. I did not have to look far though as my bank balance for our new house fund was slowly growing. Soon I hoped that I would see that little comma appear proving that I was doing the right thing by saving all my pennies but I never knew how stressful and broke it would make me feel knowing I have money but it is tied up and away. Now don't get me wrong I knew that this would not be an easy journey, saving every scrap of money that both me and Mr Warehouse have between us was certainly going to be a struggle especially when I am giving up on my summer holiday this year with Mr. Warehouse, something that makes me deeply sad and frustrated for this was going to be the year that we were going to have a blowout holiday were by the head off somewhere hot by the beach relaxing for a week or two.
Anyway enough with the same old same old, and back to the good old good old. That's right, after far far too long apart, me, Miss Hackney and Miss Sugarcoat along with her latest Beau met in a local eatery for some Mexican food and what I hoped would be a change to the normal schedule of shots, shots, shots, shots, shots, shots! It had been a long time since I saw them and it felt like I was going back to something familiar. I enjoy their company separately with Miss Hackney's laughter and down to earth approach mixed in with some gritty tales of the dating game (some more horrific and hilarious than mine I might add) and Miss Sugarcoat's intellectual conversation and ideas on life along with the added spice of strong controversial opinions (some of which I back entirely and some I try to hide from and pretend she is not with me), yet together we seem to create so much noise that it is sometimes hard to hear myself think.
Harping back to the good old times in which we used to fart around in the office not doing much work or course, we reminisced well into the evening and chatted about life as we know it now with our new relationships, friendships and jobs. I had so much to tell them as they had for me although I felt that we were all talking over each other and that the noisy restaurant did not help. Both Miss Hackney and Miss Sugarcoat seemed to have developed and carved out good careers for themselves, expanding on their talents and skills in order to obtain well paying jobs. This left me slightly questioning if I ever made the right decision moving, even though I knew in my heart that's a good decision was made. OK so I am not earning £35,000 working for a plumbing and heating company and I am also not spending my evenings and weekends attending events that I am hosting in aid of cosmetic beauty. Am I happy I jumped ship? Yes certainly and with everything that has happened in the last year and a half I think I have a fairly good deal where I am at the moment especially given the pay, ever-growing relationships both in and outside of the office as well as the fact that I now have a similar relationship with my engineers as I had before with my old ones.
As the shots kept coming I knew that my hopes of a quiet and sophisticated chat over dinner would not be the case this evening. Maybe another night I thought. Maybe a quiet evening in with a bottle or two and a comfy sofa to put the world to rights would be just what we all needed to calm down a bit for the atmosphere of a busy restaurant on a Friday night and then a loud pub with DJ were probably not the ideal places to share stories from the last eighteen months or so since I left. This was not to say that I was not enjoying myself knocking back shots of tequila whilst sipping on Prosecco, trying to keep an ounce of classy about the evening of course. As we rambled through the evening, drinking more and chatting less I was enjoying myself but in a different kind of way that I was used to and an alternative way I would if I was with my current work colleagues.
I suppose in the grand old scheme of things that this is the big difference between my old workplace and where I work now. The majority of the time that I spent with my old work colleagues was getting drunk and talking about shite. That is not to say that given a problem or issue I was experiencing I could not talk to my old work colleagues and looking back on my time there I got some brilliant advice from some amazing people who I would like to consider even now as friends despite not talking in quite some time. A night out on the tiles now consists of going round to someone else to pre-drinking in a sophisticated fashion all whilst helping each other to get dressed and gossipping as women do, then heading into town for a nice meal and some cocktails afterwards. And whilst I don't feel like I have achieved that level of conversation with anyone of my current work colleagues at this moment in time, that is not to say that if something was bugging me or I needed to talk to someone that I would have no one to talk openly to as I am sure that there would be plenty of people to offer a sympathetic ear - I hope at least.
Nevertheless my Friday evening spent with my old work colleagues or certainly a laugh and certainly something that we will make sure not to leave so long again. Isn't it funny I thought to myself and as I later tried to explain to Man-Brain Mr. Warehouse - You spend a good majority of your life working and those people you work with, if you are close, know everything about you and your life as you do about them and theirs. From Monday to Friday, Nine 'til Five you spill your guts about how your feeling and what happened at home or over the weekend. The kids, the other-half, the house, the in-laws and everything and everyone in between. You get to know their social networks and circles without ever actually meeting them and are able to provide comfort and warmth in a time of need. They know your relationships better than maybe you do yourself and can even offer advise that could change everything. With the staples and cellotape and paperclips galore they help you as much as you help them in times of joy, sorrow, support and laughter, colleagues like mine at my old job were like literal tiny flecks of gold dust, blowing into your life five-days-a-week.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Monday, 18 December 2017
Still Got It!
Evening,
So following last week's incident with the house fire I was adamant to get back to some sort of normality before the final few days before the Christmas rush hit. By this time of the year I wanted to be settled with everything bought and ideally wrapped, sacks and bags ready to go with a plan for the big day on where we were spending it and who with, not to mention to be spending our first morning waking up in our new home for the festive period and maybe even hosting some people over the holidays. But alas, here I was trying to juggle visits from the Landlord in between going to work, calling insurance companies and that's without even making a start on the wrapping or the ninety-odd Christmas Card I have to write this year. But with it all nearly over and done with, insurance settled and the necessities done away with I can finally start to enjoy what I can of this time of year.
This week was the Christmas party at work and whilst I don't normally talk much about my colleagues and what my day-to-day life is at work or what we do socially I suppose I best touch on my time during what is supposed to be the one night of the year you can really let your hair down. Some people get amorous, Some people get mildly flirty. Some people cop-off with one another. Some have a bust up. The Christmas Party at work has always evoked many a good tale on the Monday morning and alas there was none to tell, and even if there was I wouldn't spill. Saturday morning I woke however with a pounding headache and a serious need to re-hydrate. On asking what time I came home I replied to Mr. Warehouse that I thought it must have been maybe two or half-two in the morning only for him to explain it can't have been since he was up until quarter-to-three in the early hours of Saturday and I was still not back, meaning I must have been out to the lights came.on. Proud to say I still got it.
Now I have been to many a Christmas Party and works night out, maybe too many to count and certainly too many to remember. There were some of my first encounters of a night on the tiles with work colleagues was probably back in College when it would start on a Thursday lunch time with a hour-long liquid lunch down the pub and then on through Thursday Night, Friday Night, Saturday Night and Sunday night, only to roll up to college on a Monday still drunk or at the very least hangin' out our tree.
Work life soon progressed after College where I went into my first proper full time job working for a IT and technology company in Northampton. Nights out were sophisticated and started with maybe a brief glass of Rose at lunch down the local Harvester and then home for a quick change before picking everyone up en route to town. Setting our roots down in a cocktail bar one of my colleagues husband's owned (I know, friends in all the right places) we would sip away until the club's beckoned. The night would usually end with Mr. Workaholic coming to collect me or sharing a cab home. Nights out rarely involved Mr. Warehouse in Northampton, we would normally head out of a weekend with his Sister who seemed to know every bouncer in Dunstable and as a result would queue jump and get the best protection, but this was hardly work.
After moving back home to the 'Shire, and it was then that the work's night out on the razz dried up. Mainly I put this down to just not being able to find a job or company I wanted to work for. There was always a reasoning for the role not working out. Roles were boring. Roles were too stressful. The commute was too far. The public transport was a pain in the arse every day to and from the office. Life was just very unstable, as it had been for the last few years really. That was until I walked through the doors of my last company I worked for.
Being introduced to more or less everyone that worked there, less than eight-weeks later there I was on a night out. And getting pissed every four-weeks on pay day seemed like a tradition of sorts. It was on this night out, all those many moons ago that Mr. Warehouse and I met. Crushing on me since I joined I had recently split from Mr. Cheese and I think as a ploy to get me to come out some of the guys in the office arranged a night out, to take my mind off it. Betting with the store-man that I would / wouldn't be late I arrived at the designated time, only to be met by a red-haired Mr. CWG and a smartly dressed gentleman in a lilac pinstriped shirt. "Oooh a sales rep" I thought to myself, assuming he would be at least in some money and therefore a good catch in terms of conversation, ethics and morals - Not just a fuck-boy like the rest on Tinder! As more and more faces turned up we headed to a club to dance the night away, but not before some of the girls from the office collared me to ask if I was interested in Mr. CWG or Mr. Warehouse. I played it coy but had no idea that both of them were vying for my attention like some sort of horny peacocks.
After that night out a girl from the office messaged me and asked if she could pass my number onto Mr. Warehouse and I suppose the rest is history they say. Although when Mr. Warehouse explained that he was not a sales rep and indeed did work in the Warehouse I refused to believe him, until Monday morning came and I met a rather awkward and shy man in the Canteen. From then onwards there was a night at the dogs, quickly followed by someones birthday party, followed by another works night out for one reason or another and then there was the Annual Christmas Party, only to be followed a few months later with an all expenses paid awards ceremony, again drinks included. It was amazing. Like living my college years all over again. Friends soon turned to what I would class as a close knit family and will be forever looked upon as one of the most enjoyable periods of my life. But then things began to change and our little family went out less and less. I was starting to dislike my desk and whilst the people really did keep me from walking on many an occasion I knew it would not be long until the end.
This time round with my not-so-new-anymore job I feel it is more of a sophisticated affair. Everyone is over the age of twenty-five so have done the whole falling off the curb and bundling into a kebab shop at 2am. Work life nights out now include going on dinner dates, pre-drinks putting the world to rights and talking shite, heading to cocktail bars and paying over the odds for a glass of wine when you could have bought the whole bottle at the shop round the corner. Life is much more mature, but don't get me wrong oh how I do wish I could have a messy night out again with my old colleagues, or maybe with my new ones. A good old sticky night club floor, someone to bum menthol's off in the beer garden and a mediocre argument about how I can walk home as I live so close to town and not needing a cab. Maybe this is something I should initiate. A proper dirty night out!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Monday, 28 August 2017
Three More Days!!!
Hiya,
With less than 72-hours until myself and Mr Warehouse will be on our holiday in Tenerife, suffice to say that we are very excited. The question is do have we got everything ready and are we fully prepared to board the plane? No. The answer would be no. Have I packed? No. Has Mr. Warehouse packed? No. Has anyone done anything besides from getting their hair and nails booked in at the salon been done - Well that stuff is booked, but everything else is being left till last minute as per usual.
But there has been a valid excuse for this weekend it was a bank holiday in the UK, our last one for a while as the next time that we have a day off from work legitimately will be for Christmas. Normally I will try and plan to go away to somewhere with the dog and Mr Warehouse however we were very busy this weekend with social events and also a bit of overtime we were certainly stack to our eyeballs. Friday was an easy day in terms of both work and evening, but after a hard and long week at work I was more than happy for the extended weekend, all in the knowledge that the next time I see my desk I will be less than two days away from my holiday.
Saturday started early with Mr Warehouse going to work overtime for the morning, and being the only driver in the household I had drawn the short straw by taking him to work. At 5.30am. But after an extended lay-in and a chill out on the sofa with the dog I was more than ready to start my day, again. Although there wasn't much left of the day to start giving the fact that I collected Mr Warehouse and went into town for a mooch and some last minute holiday shopping. Heading home in order to bake the remaining cakes for the christening the next day we were going to, we had little time to catch a breath before we were around to Mr Warehouses Brothers in order to look after their children. It wasn't until 3am we got home on Sunday and shattered, in our haste to get into bed and some sleep before morning we forgot to put our alarms on. As a result we woke up at the time that we were due to be leaving for the church in order to arrive in time for the christening. It was not going to be possible to make it to the church in time and so therefore we decided that we would wait in a car park of the reception venue so that we could await the new arrival.
Unfortunately due to the gloriously sunny weather it was getting rather warm in my car and as a result the icing had a split. They looked like a four-year-old had done them and to hand them over to the mother of the child would have been an absolute embarrassment. Feeling depressed and at an absolute low-ebb due to the fact of my cupcakes were melting I said that I didn't want paying for them in the state they were. The disappointing thing is that I had been working on these cupcakes from the moment that she had asked me to do them, trying to work out the different ways that I would be able to carve out a centre and fill it with a rainbow. Hours has spent the last several weeks stuck in the kitchen slaving away trying to make the cupcakes look as beautiful as possible. And to top it all off we ended up arriving at the venue and realising we had forgotten the christening present. So safe to say that Sunday was far from perfect, for me at least.
Today was far more relaxed with a cheeky Nando's lunch and mooch around town for some bits for the house / dog sitter (AKA Miss Tweedle-Dee) whilst we are away. Seeing family this afternoon, Mr. Warehouse and I are now relaxing in preparation for going back to work, but only for a few hours. Next time we talk I might be writing to you from a beach or beside the pool with a cocktail or two ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
With less than 72-hours until myself and Mr Warehouse will be on our holiday in Tenerife, suffice to say that we are very excited. The question is do have we got everything ready and are we fully prepared to board the plane? No. The answer would be no. Have I packed? No. Has Mr. Warehouse packed? No. Has anyone done anything besides from getting their hair and nails booked in at the salon been done - Well that stuff is booked, but everything else is being left till last minute as per usual.
But there has been a valid excuse for this weekend it was a bank holiday in the UK, our last one for a while as the next time that we have a day off from work legitimately will be for Christmas. Normally I will try and plan to go away to somewhere with the dog and Mr Warehouse however we were very busy this weekend with social events and also a bit of overtime we were certainly stack to our eyeballs. Friday was an easy day in terms of both work and evening, but after a hard and long week at work I was more than happy for the extended weekend, all in the knowledge that the next time I see my desk I will be less than two days away from my holiday.
Saturday started early with Mr Warehouse going to work overtime for the morning, and being the only driver in the household I had drawn the short straw by taking him to work. At 5.30am. But after an extended lay-in and a chill out on the sofa with the dog I was more than ready to start my day, again. Although there wasn't much left of the day to start giving the fact that I collected Mr Warehouse and went into town for a mooch and some last minute holiday shopping. Heading home in order to bake the remaining cakes for the christening the next day we were going to, we had little time to catch a breath before we were around to Mr Warehouses Brothers in order to look after their children. It wasn't until 3am we got home on Sunday and shattered, in our haste to get into bed and some sleep before morning we forgot to put our alarms on. As a result we woke up at the time that we were due to be leaving for the church in order to arrive in time for the christening. It was not going to be possible to make it to the church in time and so therefore we decided that we would wait in a car park of the reception venue so that we could await the new arrival.
Unfortunately due to the gloriously sunny weather it was getting rather warm in my car and as a result the icing had a split. They looked like a four-year-old had done them and to hand them over to the mother of the child would have been an absolute embarrassment. Feeling depressed and at an absolute low-ebb due to the fact of my cupcakes were melting I said that I didn't want paying for them in the state they were. The disappointing thing is that I had been working on these cupcakes from the moment that she had asked me to do them, trying to work out the different ways that I would be able to carve out a centre and fill it with a rainbow. Hours has spent the last several weeks stuck in the kitchen slaving away trying to make the cupcakes look as beautiful as possible. And to top it all off we ended up arriving at the venue and realising we had forgotten the christening present. So safe to say that Sunday was far from perfect, for me at least.
Today was far more relaxed with a cheeky Nando's lunch and mooch around town for some bits for the house / dog sitter (AKA Miss Tweedle-Dee) whilst we are away. Seeing family this afternoon, Mr. Warehouse and I are now relaxing in preparation for going back to work, but only for a few hours. Next time we talk I might be writing to you from a beach or beside the pool with a cocktail or two ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
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