This Weekend (11) ...

... I'm a little tardy.

I spent the bulk of this weekend either (a) drunk or (b) hungover, which makes finding 10 inspiring things to say about my weekend a little tricky. Ten things which I'm prepared to reveal to the group anyway ...

So anyway, I thought, if I left it a day, I might be able to think of more weekend things, and pad this baby out a bit. I'm not sure that I'm quite up to ten yet, but let's see if we can't eek a LOT of white wine* out a bit longer.

1) Thursday evening rushed up a me a bit. Having spent a week saying to a client, "we should get that offer out this week. Really. This week. Yes, I think it would be wise. Shall I send that offer out this week?" I got instructions to send afore mentioned offer out at 17:55 pm. Bastards. So I had to run around like a fool putting it all together and working out how to work the post franking machine, and then dash to the post office to discover that the last post had gone. Bastards. So I feigned ignorance, put it in the post box anyway, then went to the pub. Don't tell!!

2) Pub quiz joke question this week ... What's the difference between a golf ball and a g-spot? To say that this appealed to Team Biscuit's sense of humour would be an understatement! We had to narrow down six proposed answers to one: If you can't find one of them, you get heavily penalised. The other is a golf ball. Boom boom!

3) On a Friday morning, I almost always do the same thing. I set my alarm for 8pm, rather than risk losing my whole day to the duvet, and I go out for breakfast. It means that I'm up, dressed, out, and Doing Something. I usually go to a caff in Tooting (that I've blogged about in the past, but I can't find it, so you'l just have to trust me ... I'm loyal). This Friday, when I went in, the owner greeted me with the phrase, "the usual?", and I made a mental note to order something else next week.

4) I meet up with a friend for lunch, who said he'd take me to a pub that I've heard a lot about, but not been to before. But when we go there it was closed. So we went to a pub that we've been to before, and drank some white wine*. Then some more white wine* ...

5) ... then we went to another pub to meet some friends of mine to watch the football, and drink some more white wine*. Let me know if you can see the point at which the wheels might have dropped off. Anyway, suffice to say that I behaved badly. But sometimes, that's fun, no? So let's move on.

6) I've noticed, since I turned 30, that hangovers don't always behave as they should. So on Saturday I woke up relatively bright, relatively early, and feeling relatively pleased with myself. Possibly also relatively drunk. Cup of tea, shower, and set the coffee machine going, then, whilst I had a chat with a pal on the phone, the hangover swept over me like a wave, forcing me to excuse myself and go back to bed for an hour. Then I woke up and felt fine! Hoorah!

7) So, with hangover tempered, I set off for the fabulous Furzedown fun day on the Rec. What does a girl with a barely concealed smell of white wine* about her person really want? That's right! Three hours working in the information tent, selling arm-bands to small children and saying, "would you like to buy an Eco bag?" over and over and over and over again. Actually, once I got over the initial shock, it was great. All organised by a group of five volunteers, and a few strays (like me), and on a budget of about £2.50, the Rec had transformed magically from a litter-strewn hang out for local teenagers into a full scale festival. There were stalls selling fabulous local creations, and people playing African drums and face painters and plants and cakes and food and drinks and bouncy castles (for up to 13 years old only. NO FUN!) and Punch & Judy and a stage with bands and microphones and lights, for crying out loud, and it was all fabulous!

8) And after that, I was pooped. I came home and made some tea and put a DVD in and then fell asleep half way though and was back in bed about twelve hours after I initially woke up.

9) So since Friday and Saturday had both been such a write off, I had to get down to business on Sunday, doing exciting things like cleaning the bathroom and hoovering the stairs and catching up with some over-due jewellery making. And actually, busying around all day, ticking a series of small items off my "to do" list was oddly cathartic. I have next week off work to Work On The House. I only hope that I have the same sense of purpose then! (The one day of hard work, I mean. Not the two days of drunken stupor!)

10) And to round of the weekend, and because I am a domestic goddess, on Sunday evening I let the pan boil dry whilst cooking beetroot. So now my kitchen looks like someone's been murdered in it, and my nice, useful, medium sized, cook anything in it saucepan has a black and charred kind of a finish to it. RATS!

Well there you go! I did have ten constructive things to say about the weekend after all. Here's hoping that next week is a little more sedate though, eh?

*just typing "white wine" still makes me feel a bit queasy. I think I might be broken. Forever ...