Here's to the Weekend

Why it was so good...

Leaving work on time. Band of Skulls, Zane Lowe and fortunately only two caravans for company on the M4 and route home South. Spending £8 on Marks and Spencers hot cross buns because they’re just so good. Pouring myself into new white jeans. Going into palpitations over my Stanwells leather jacket. Drinking espresso martinis and buckets of sauvignon in Graze, Lymington. Laughing. A lot. Drinking. More. Remembering that mucking out ponies and hangovers don’t mix. Being proven right that Anadin Extra, water, carbs and fresh air are still not as remedial as glasses of bubbles. Toasting to my greatly missed grandparents. X. Lengthy dinner party. White wine running out. Red wine running out. Too many cups of coffee and shockingly rude innuendos. Roxy Music, the Foos, Maroon 5 and Barry White on very loudly. Blowing the cobwebs away dog walking. Bloody Marys in the Haven. Rosé in the Haven. Rosé in the Chequers. Enjoying exceptional company. Enjoying myself full stop. Smoking too much. Hearing the term ‘snurgle’ for the first time. Feeling my blood to rosé ratios getting extremely low. Formulating a plan to steal a very nice pale blue cashmere jumper. Failing. Eating chocolate Lindt bunnies, ears first after I've said you shouldn't do it. Surviving another hangover – third time's a charm. Not just getting glassy-eyed but crying at The Way we Were. Salivating at how good Robert Redford looks in jeans on a beach. Packing. Remembering that I should’ve spent more time at the car wash/at my lap top/ sorting out my life rather than the pub. Getting over that ridiculous notion very quickly. Erratically driving away from the New Forest. Pretending to sound good rapping along to Pro Green. Debating the pros of further drinks at home in Gloucestershire. Crashing and burning.

Well done four day weekend, you were a goodie.

I'm sure Bryan would like to apologise for his moustache...