Number of hangovers I have had which have lasted the WHOLE day = 1. Thursday night Jooj had a prize giving thingy at her school so I had to go along and see her get a certificate for Fabulousness in ICT and another one for All Round Swottiness in Year 7. I think that was what they were for anyway, I wasn�t really paying attention. Mostly cos the school only allows two tickets per child to attend these things which meant that instead of going with L and paying attention and stuff, I had to sit with Shagnasty. Honestly, I don�t know why he bothers to go to these things. He was only interested in what other kids won stuff and why Jooj didn�t win, like, EVERY prize (his conclusion: She isn�t studying hard enough), then he left before the bit where Jooj played in the steel band because�.get this�.he doesn�t really like steel band music. Well, DUH. Steel band music only ever sounds truly great when you�re sipping a cocktail and smoking some ganja on a beach somewhere in the Kuh-RIB-ian. It almost never sounds particularly great when you�re sitting on a plastic chair in a sweaty school gym. Particularly if the people playing the steel drums have only been learning for a term and are�umm�12. Actually, they were pretty much OK. I took a picture on my mobile and sent it to Shagnasty. Half out of proudness and half out of spite since you could se that Jooj was actually playing and looked quite cool. Truly that man is a twat. Of the highest order.
I�d had a fight with BF earlier in the evening � cant remember what about now but it did involve the slamming of several doors and some instructions to go fuck himself so it cant have been that serious. No blood was spilt or anything � so when I got home from the prize giving with Jooj I was quite pleased to find he was out in the studio with his friend P. I sent Jooj to bed and skulked around the house for a bit, still being pissed off with L (even tho he wasn�t there to see me scowling) and throwing in a bit of �sheeshing� at (the also absent) Shagnasty for being a twat.
When P and L came back in I tried to keep up the arsines for a bit but I was a bit rubbish as I wasn�t actually all that pissed off anymore and it seemed a bit of a waste of energy, so I had a couple of drinkies and talked to P for a bit and the guitars came out and it was all rather lovely. Went upstairs for a wee about 10.30ish and while I was up there Lee and Anne-Marie turned up, on their way back from the pub. They�d brought more drink with them and Lee�s no slouch on the guitar so pretty soon we had a nice drunken sing song on the go, with everyone taking a turn at the �mic� (which actually means, everyone had a turn at googling the lyrics for the song they wanted to do and they got to stand nearest to the laptop so they could see the screen. As we�re all in our 40�s we sometimes have to stand quite close so that means everyone else just has to �lalala� along if they cant see the words.). Obviously, if it was a song that we all knew all the way through � and there�s PLENTY of them! � then we split naturally into leads and BVs and were totally fabulous, only having to be �shhhhhh�d� a couple of times cos the kids were in bed and our Sweet Home Alabama was threatening to shake the plaster off the kitchen walls. As we were all drunk, we naturally have now formed a band and will be gigging before the month is out. Actually, I might be the only one that remembers that we said that, as everyone was as at least as pie-eyed as I was!
P left around 2am and we carried on for a little while until I lost the powers of speech and was only able to mumble �fuck off home, you two, Ive got to go to work in the morning�. Luckily Lee and Anne-Marie aren�t the sort to take offence at being told to fuck off, and they fucked off.
Next morning. Eeeeeeuuuuw. Its been a long time since Ive been so hungover that I have been unable to speak, move, eat or blink. Its even longer since Ive been so hungover that I have been unable to speak, move, eat or blink�on a work day. Naturally, I faked a sinus headache so everyone in the office would feel sorry for me instead of pointing and laughing. I tried the cheese and potato pasty cure at 9.30 but it took til after the lunchtime beef and red onion baguette before I was able to type the following email to my co-worker M�linda �I am so hungover I want to die. If you tell anyone, I will kill you.�
She made a �zipped lips� gesture across the desk at me, which means she is now officially my friend and I am looking forward to the four hour road trip I am taking with her later this week.
I sent a text to Lee and Anne Marie saying that I was feeling like a big shiny pile of shite and was comforted to get texts back from both of them saying that they, too, were feeling something less than special (in fact, Anne Marie�s said that her mouth tasted �like Ghandi�s flip-flop�).
I would say �never again�, but that is bollocks as we all know.
Number of kids that have been in my house this week = 90 bazillion. At one point today there are were 8 of them. The CD player was in the garden with My Chemical Romance blaring round the neighbourhood. Much Haribo got eaten, along with a multitude of ice pops. The giant foam Frisbee got stuck on the conservatory roof too many times to be properly funny, even tho they were all laughing as I perched on a bar stool with a long hookie stick and fetched it down�again.
Number of jobs I have applied for = 3. Number of jobs I have actually got positive responses from = number of jobs applied for � 3. On Friday, or �hangover day� as it shall now be known, I got an emailed response from an employment agency which said �thank you for applying for the position of Chef Manager (salary �blahblah) but on this occasion you have been unsuccessful� to which I fired off a somewhat terse response �Dear Agency, thank you for the email telling me that I have been unsuccessful in my application. I am not too disappointed as this was not the job that I applied for. Probably because I am not a Chef Manager and �blahblah is considerably less than I currently earn�. I somehow don�t think they are going to put me forward for any other jobs now, after that, but really. Do your fucking job, dudes.
Number of days I am in the office this week = 2. On Wednesday morning, me and M�linda are driving up to Manchester as we have four days at RHS Tatton Park (cant be bothered to do the link � feel free to Google), running around like blue arsed flies and generally NOT being on a jolly. Meh. I get to spend a few nights in a posh hotel, trying very hard not to eat my own body weight in expenses dinners, fried breakfasts and tea-tent lunches. I very much hope that this will be the last one of these things I ever have to go on. I really REALLY want a new job. The kids break up from school on Tues (Jooj) and Weds (Treacle) so they are at home with L The Wicked Stepdad who will, doubtless, feed them nothing but beans on toast for three days and let them veg out in front of the telly until their heads explode. Ah well.
L has just said that it would be OK for me to take this laptop with me when Im away so I will still be able to see what you lot are up to. Hell, I might even post a little update or two!
Until then