I know its only 4.30 but i need a big glass of wine,i bumped in to ex husband who i haven't spoken to for nearly 10 years.My bike is so much better than his HEAP and he tried desperately to keep up with me...not a cat in hells chance...2 hours of listening talk about him self has driven me to drink.........
I'm back at fat fighters, so no wine o'clock for me. After my 'summer fitness sabbatical / see food diet', I'll mostly be drinking water & black coffee for the next 6 weeks!
having much needed glass of malbec. left work at heathrow 10 am, at car by 10.40 arrived in edinburgh at 4.30, not too bad as last run home was on bank hoiday friday. after visits in edinburgh finally home. opened wine before unpacking. only way to end the week. only 2 glasses though as its to be dry tomorrow.
Seriously bat faced last night at the mess function, got in at abut 0500 and then was woken by the wife to go to the cinema at lunch followed by sitting in the sun drinking all afternoon by the river in Abingdon. I'm now home with kebab consumed and ready for bed before getting up bright and breezy tomorrow for a good blast before prepping it for tuesdays track session.
But zen means that it should make you feel a whole lot better about yourself in your new life Ash. So look at it as a bit of an affirmation that despite a few bad decisions to start with you now know how to make the right ones. By the way. There's stuff in the Greek tabloids about 'Leggy, blonde, yorkshire lass, loves bikes, snakes and uphill gardening'. Wondered if you knew her, is all........?
That's it........ Just logged out of the server. The weekend starts now; I expect the sun would be over the yard arm if only I could see it through the bloody rain. So what’s it to be, Saint Omer blonde, Desperado, or I still have some Westmalle trappist or Leffe 9% local anaesthetic to wet the whistle. Or just pop a cork with the expectation of an inevitable early peek, crash and burn.
Looking out and down out of the office window the sun is shining on the gleaming paintwork of my baby. 8 minutes and counting and I shall be stuffing my lardy arse into the leather and scoffing at the muppets in the traffic on Bridge road. 10 minutes later and I'll be home where the first of many Bombay Sapphires will be waiting, condensation running down the glass. Cheers Everyone.
A teething baby, and a resultingly shattered/emotional missus means I shall be doing the honourable thing... no, not disappearing down the pub, but packing her off to bed early and kipping in with the baby so I can spend the night calming her down whilst the missus gets a good sleep. Alternatively, I could feed the baby a fat slug of Balvenie...........
Calpol Gappy, Calpol. it's the eighth wonder of the world, or at least it was when my children were little.
