I need a holiday. Or more something resembling respite. I can’t remember the last time I had a week when I was more out than at home. As a result I resemble a cranky toddler about to throw a tantrum rather than the sophisticated middle aged woman I normally am. Its currently 2.45 on Sunday morning and I’m on the night tube back from Brixton. So I’m using my time wisely to recap. Sleep is impossible anyway it’s rammed and the noise level is resembling a busy pub.
Before you think ‘Lady don’t you have kids at home’, let me assure you this is not my standard week. On Tuesday, I had a night out in London to bid good bye to my lovely Thigh Girl who is leaving me temporarily to study up North. So me and another friend took her out for dinner at Homage and then for cocktails in Shoreditch at the Jailhouse Bar. I think I might have set a standard at Son B’s new school, collecting him from his rugby training in an evening dress and high heels. Let’s hope I can stick with that. We had a fabulous time, I’m going to miss this chick so much but she is going to stay with me for Christmas so we will have plenty of time to catch up then. And obviously there is a road trip or two in order to ensure she is setting in alright.
Thursday, I had my very much anticipated date. Now, to be entirely honest, I have no bloody clue how this is going to play out, but I’m glad I took the risk. It was a lovely evening, a little weird, but good overall. I shall leave it at that. We’ve been here before and that didn’t work out too well. On Friday I had to quickly pop into the pub for leaving drinks with already above mentioned Thigh Girl. I was already dead on my feet then, but when friendship duty calls, what can you do?
Saturday. Getting up at 4.30am to go to work when you plan on going out in the evening isn’t the best thing but hey what can you do. The plan was a visit to an R&B event at the Electric in Brixton. I’d never been in this place and its architecture is absolutely amazing. My lovely friend I’m with was so full of energy and busting some amazing moves on the dancefloor, whilst I just very coolly do some bar stool dancing. As in I’m not getting my ass off that stool. The atmosphere was fantastic and this is definitely on again, when I have more control over my social life and don’t book myself too much stuff into one week and end up just wanting a duvet on the sofa. Stupid me really.
I got home some time around 4am and Sunday is spend doing home work, house work and cooking. Boring stuff we all have to do but rather not. It’s a rule in our house that on the Sundays the kids are home, a Sunday roast with all the trimmings is a must. And of course I oblige. I’m going to bed now. And not wake up for three days probably.