I am exhausted. I feel like my weekend was about thirty seconds long and for those entire thirty seconds I was doing burpees at altitude in a space suit.
I wasn’t, just to be clear, but I feel like I was. This is why: Friday night I went to CF, which I then moaned about on the blog to you all, lucky old you, and then I watched movies and drank cava with my friend Schmiz. On Saturday I woke up and we had the following conversation:
‘I really want to go for lunch with the rest of the guys – they are going at 3 but I don’t have any money.’
‘I’ll lend you money but I can’t come – I have my trainer.’
‘Cool, thanks. I love massive Spanish lunch.’
‘I’m going to cancel my trainer.’
So she did and we went for lunch. With beers beforehand cos you have to wait for an hour for a table. Then free flowing wine. Then hierbas (a delicious herby liquor), then back to our friend’s house where more people joined us. There was singing, hilarity, my friend was actually trying to wrestle me and more booze. Lot’s more booze. Then we decided ‘to be sensible’ and head home at 1am. We left the flat, passed the coolest mexican bar, waved to the owner, stopped dead with Olympic Gold winning synchronisity and, with one eyebrow raised and in a ‘why not’ tone suggested ‘a Margarita?’
So we did. What happened after that is anybody’s guess. It involved kebabs at one point but we both woke up at home, in our own beds, with our make-up taken off so that is always a good sign. What was not a good sign was the Nordic style, hammer wielding hamster dancing a jig in my head.
We drank coffee. We drank water. A lot of water. Then we went for beers.
HAIR OF THE DOG.
Seems good in principle. Works well. When not taken to extremes.
Yup, that was ‘when not taken to extremes’.
YOLO gone mad.
There is a learning curve somewhere, I’m just not sure where.
Next time I am definitely going to get on it.
How were your weekends? Did you do a little hair of the dog?