As if I hadn’t let it be known enough already, Day Five is done. If somehow you are missing the social media bombardment announcing these things then you should follow me up and stuff, so I can be all up in your grill n stuff fo shure.
I have noticed, or more truthfully Louise has noticed, there are lots of spelling and grammatical errors in each day. This is a symptom of writing it in my hotel room of an evening, in a bit of a rush. Apologies, and I will try to do better as I hate that sort of sloppiness. As ever, my desire to write a good trippy is exactly balanced out by the amount of time I cannot find to concentrate on it.
Last week I was away again. I did three days in Marlow, enjoying the delights of the Prince of Wales. This is not another royal scandal involving one of them with too much flesh on display, rather the executive level accommodation afforded to one of my lofty status.
I don’t enjoy being away to be honest. At the moment though needs must, but hopefully after the next few weeks I can keep that to a sensible level. It is doing nothing for my waistline I can tell you. Thankfully the Price of Wales is low brow enough not to have the facilities or will to provide a full English breakfast. No matter how good my intentions are the night before, if I wake up and have even half a chance of such a feast, I can only spit at the croissant as I trample folk to death en route to the bangers. Again, that isn’t a Royal reference.
A yoghurt and some cereal are my start to the day, but it is at night where my waistline attracts further girth. I have no issue with sitting by myself whilst eating. After all, I am still eating. To be honest though, I’d rather just sit in the room, watch a bit of telly and relax, so I have taken to going to Sainsburys and getting some tea from there. Something noodly with chicken, some salad, olives with feta and perhaps some chorizo, followed by a family bag of pretzels. Yep, I’m a fat knacker and it must stop.
Next week I just have the one night away, and I am determined to do better. I had resolved to “do better” this weekend too, but I’d only give myself a 6 out of 10 to be honest.
Louise is still suffering quite badly with her back, and despite some brief episodes of relief (again, no Princes involved) it hasn’t really improved at all. Indeed yesterday we spent a few hours in A&E as the pain was so bad. She literally could not sit, stand or lie in any comfort, and as you might guess, that isn’t any fun at all.
All that A&E could do was offer a leaflet on back pain and one dose of Diazepam. Louise necked the tablet and battered the doctor to death with his bloody leaflet. Hopefully things will improve over the next few days as she is desperate to get back into her hospital placement.
I had been looking forward to going to the pictures this weekend to finally watch the Batman film. Yes, Bolton Cineworld are still showing it incredibly. Mind you, Carrie only finished last week. I did get to go to the cinema, but only to transport the girls there and back, as they went to watch the House at the End of the Street or whatever it is called. Emily went with her friend Chloe and Rebecca with her friend that is a boy, Tom. Their relationship is not yet officially confirmed as anything more than that, but they spend more than enough time together for us to guess that she may be playing it down slightly.
Of course, as Rebecca suspects, Louise and I were beamed down onto the planet just before she was born, and we’ve no experience of this sort of thing.
As far as I can make out the film seems to be entirely about that girl from the Hunger Games running around in a sweaty vest. Well, I have no objection to that, and Bruce Willis built a career on it.
The girls thought it average though, and not as scary as they had hoped. The fact that Emily slept suggests that this is an accurate review, as at the first sign of a scary film she can go weeks without closing her eyes.
Having ironed, cleaned, made the tea and generally been an all round great guy for most of the weekend, I now intend to enjoy my Sunday evening. I worry for my intentions though as Emily has the remote, and is insisting on X Factor, which I can hear has just started. Louise is in bed and Rebecca out with her not boyfriend. I can feel a wrestling match coming on.
If there is visible bruising tomorrow then I shall do my best to conceal it. I wouldn’t know how to explain them to work anyway.
I shall assume my position in my “Dad’s chair” and see if I can find anything worth watching, that is if I can see the bloody telly over the dog!
Till the next time….