Alas, another Monday is almost over.
I am tired and achy. But oh it was worth it...
So Friday I was poorly.
Poorly like you've never known it before. Left work infact, only to spend the entire day sleeping like a baby - restless, grouchy and unable to get comfortable.
A poker hot feeling in my tummy and a clammy feeling left me unable to attend an unofficial Christmas do (the official palava is next week).
So I lay in bed, cursing the day I'd chosen to eat rice in a very nice restaurant. Who knew rice could cause problems.
And so I ate only one piece of dry toast over the course of twenty four hours.
Delightful.
Then the panic began to set in...
What if I had to cancel my plans for the weekend?
Now this was a big deal. These specific plans had been pen-ed (not even pencilled) in my little black book months previously.
My delightful London friends were leaving the familiarity of the city and joining me in the suburbs of the south coast.
I had no idea what to do with them - they didn't know that though.
By the powers that be, on Saturday morning I was feeling much better. A bit wobbly but alive enough to leave the comfort of my bedroom. And I needed to. Cabin fever sets in very quickly.
So they arrived.
Dumped bags and assorted sleeping materials.
We did the standard love-y greetings and air kisses.
Drank a quick cuppa and jumped in Herman for a little drive.
By the time we got in the car, I'd made up for my lack of planning and had made some slightly spontaneous, 'not set in stone' plans.
We went to a city of great Naval history. Not that we were there for the boats. We did see that one that the bloke with one eye and the funny hat sailed for a bit.
So we parked (finally) using an amazing system of lights (green = vacant) that you could only see when you drove the right way round the carpark (aka. following the arrows). We had a fairly quick mooch around some outlet stores (not too quick for Charlotte though) and paid for a few games of ten-pin bowling.
Nothting like a bit of the old Flintstone moves to inspire a little friendly rivalry. Competition brings out the best in everyone.
It is worth noting that whilst the boys won the first game, the tables turned for the second and the girls stormed ahead.
Apparently this was the result of the football being on too, "heads not in the game..blah blah blah". Sorry lads, the scores said it all.
Oh and then, because after beer and bowling you must have pizza, we found a very chic pizzeria. Who knew you could have curry on a pizza?
Obviously it was described a little more delicately than that, otherwise no-one would buy it. Or would they?
Bellies full (and a detour via a supermarket where 'every little helps' for more of the evening's sustinence) we arrived back at Chez Dodd for more frivolities and booze.
Next thing you know its 3am, and you're crawling into bed with Carrie.
Carrie and I have to share a bed, its an unwritten rule.
That's why Mr BMW (two wheels not four) had to have mini Dodd's bed. Only it cost me.
In order for mini Dodd to vacate her bed for one night - ONE - I have to take her to see the next installment in that vampire series.
I tell you what, Mr BMW had better have had a good kip.
And
