Tiny Bubbles

Friday night I met the girls for a cheeky tipple apres work. Unlike the Girl I used to be, working in London, staying out till all hours on school nights, showing up to work wondering if I was drunk still (this was only a few times, but it did happen), the Old Maid Me was only up for a couple and then it was home. Home to take away, comfy jammies and a boy who makes my heart flutter. My skirt was tugged and tugged to stay for a couple more, but this old Girl was tired and retired before things got messy. And messy they did get apparently. But that's neither here nor there. Saturday morning I packed NicB off to the cricket and packed myself off to be tortured (read: power pilates) with one of the mates from the night before. Indeed she reckons she may have still been drunk whilst being pulled and yanked from limb to limb. Pah, I thought in that smug way that uppity Aries do, glad those days are over for me.


Upon leaving pilates, I received a text from that hunky man of mine requesting my presence at the Cricket. It was in a box, so I figured, even if it's raining, how bad can it be. I was however encouraged to hurry as I was already very late. In my haste I forgot to eat. Well forgot isn't exactly accurate, it's all I could think about. Nothing suitably quick in sight left me with no option but to forgo. I rationed that spending the time to look good was more important then sustenance. Uh huh, yeah good call. You can probably already see where this is going. Fast forward 5 hours. The match has been rained out, but in our comfy little box with a bottomless glass of champagne, I didn't even notice. I was very well behaved in front of all NicB's work people though and brother and boss. No really, I was. It wasn't until everyone had dispersed that I really let go. Took my shoes off and walked home barefoot. I live fairly close to Lords, in a clean part of London, so this isn't THAT bad, but still very unlike me. Once in my flat, I lunged for the sofa and announced that it was bed time. It was 7:30. NicB, bless, ran me a bath and gently deposited me in said bath. At which point I began a regression to the age of 5 that took all of 3 minutes. Whilst splashing about I asked for a rubber ducky. I don't remember much more, except that I woke up, starkers with very mad hair at about 4:00am.


Payback is a bitch. When will I learn to keep my smugness to myself.