Day 11/Day 12: The Hangover/Recovery

My good intentions to spend the Belgian public holiday novelling furiously from dawn to dusk were put paid by an over-enthusiastic booze-up the night before with two ex-colleagues. In the face of good company and fine wine I am utterly powerless to resist temptation, especially when there is the very real prospect of a lie-in. Needless to say, when I woke up at ten o’clock the next morning with a dehydration headache I was somewhat (read: very) disappointed by my lack of willpower. But nonetheless, and in the true spirit of NaNo, I pulled myself together enough to battle through, still managing a surprisingly impressive 3,000 words before the day was out, taking me just over my target. I can’t say it wasn’t painful, but I did it, and that’s what counts, right?

Today was another matter entirely. After a long day in the office I wasn’t holding out much hope for a decent writing session tonight, but after getting home, banging my knee so hard on the cupboard door I think the neighbours might have thought I was being murdered, and doing a twenty minute pilates workout on YouTube, I sat down and wrote non-stop for over an hour, easily managing my daily workout, and then a few hundred words to boot. It’s funny how that happens on the days you least expect it. It wasn’t my best work, I think that’s fair to say, but it sufficed in nudging the plot along a little, putting my main characters in a touch of strife and bringing them closer together in the process. So I’m taking that as a win. And I’m delighted to say I’ve broken the 20,000 word mark. Hooray! Nearly halfway. Take THAT week two. And they say you’re the worst of the lot. Not for this old soak. Cheers!

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Friday? Sigh day…

Oh Friday, how have I hated thee? Let me count the ways…

  1. Arrived in the office feeling slightly worse for wear (a rarity these days given my advancing years and rapidly declining tolerance for hangovers).
  2. Was then faced with a barrage of emails about a VIP visit on Tuesday for which I had to prepare a multitude of documents, press packs and such like – not to mention liaising with the officious folk at the Cabinet Office.
  3. Just as the above task was being addressed, spotted an error in the marketing materials that were on the verge of being printed: Cue panicked phone calls and emails to avoid 2,000 information packs being printed with incorrect information.
  4. Hangover worsened.
  5. Afternoon flooding of inbox with general urgent requests.
  6. Exhaustion set in.
  7. Received text from mother to inform me my marathon ballot application had been unsuccessful and I therefore have no space in next year’s London Marathon. SAD FACE.
  8. Was unable to join colleagues for post-work birthday/leaving drink celebrations due to necessity of finishing above tasks.

Fortunately, at 6.24pm, I have now finished all my work and am ready to head over to see two of my gorgeous girlie friends for an evening of food and loveliness. And wine. After the day I’ve had, there must definitely be wine…

Growing old disgracefully

As predicted yesterday’s wedding was magnificent in every way. The weather gods were smiling and there was barely a cloud in the sky. The church was beautiful, the reception venue stunning. But nothing and nobody was as radiant as the bride herself – just as it should be.

As the sun beat down the champagne flowed, followed by wine with the wedding breakfast, and by the time 10pm rolled around it was unanimously declared to be jagerbomb time, though everybody had drunk more than enough. There was dancing and much merriment…and then there was today.

Waking up at half past six in the dress you wore to the wedding with the bedroom lit up like the Blackpool illuminations is rather disconcerting. What’s more disconcerting still is having no memory of getting back to your accommodation. And what’s even more disconcerting than that is the grim realisation you have an unavoidable three hour drive ahead of you.

After downing some water and eating a hearty fry up I hit the road, convinced once I got going I’d feel better. Not so. Shortly after leaving the bed and breakfast, in fact, I was forced to pull over and eject the aforementioned fry up on the side of a country lane – watched by a herd of unimpressed cows. Clambering back into the car and convinced that now I’d feel much better, I continued on my way.

After almost an hour of driving around narrow country roads I entered a village and my heart sank – it was the same village I’d driven through forty minutes earlier. I had, in fact, been driving around in a circle. As this realisation sank in my body decided to eject another bit of fry up for good measure. This was rapidly descending into the journey from hell. Not only was I overwhelmed with insatiable nausea, I was also now stuck in the countryside, in my very own version of Groundhog Day.

Of course there was no mobile phone reception, so when I saw the first car in what felt like hours I flagged it down and asked for directions. As I spoke the man inside regarded me with a bemused smile – it was only afterwards when I looked in the mirror I realised my hair was sticking out at right angles to my head and I had sick on my top.

Fortunately I did eventually make it out of the maze that is the Shropshire countryside, and four and a half hours later I arrived, dishevelled and grumpy, at my parents’ house, where mother saw fit to point out that I’m far too old to behave like this. And I realised I’d left my shoes in Shropshire.

Day three, Stateside – revenge of the pancakes

Day three brought with it an unwelcome hangover from the evening before, but it was nothing brunch at a traditional American diner wouldn’t cure. Once we’d managed to pull ourselves together and get ready we walked ten minutes to the Brownstone Diner. Settling into a booth, we ordered coffee, pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausages, French fries and smoothies and sat back and waited for our massive haul to arrive.

When the food did arrive I was taken aback by the sheer volume of pancakes before me – three plump doughy pillows half an inch thick and almost as big as the plate upon which they sat. My sausage, bacon rashers and two poached eggs sat on a separate plate beside them and the strawberry and banana smoothie was topped off with lashings of whipped cream. Suddenly my confidence in being able to finish everything on my plate vanished. And, sure enough I was defeated with one and a half pancakes still to go, my dreams of being a competitive eating champion shattered all around me.

Wonderful as the Brownstone Diner experience was it left us desperate for a lie down, so we headed back to the apartment for an hour’s rest before getting ready to go back out. Jen was working a shift at a restaurant in Soho so I went along with her and settled myself in a lovely little place around the corner called Sanctuary T, where I whiled away a pleasant few hours sampling speciality teas, writing and watching the world go by. When my appetite finally returned I treated myself to a delicious kale salad with truffle oil, hazelnuts and Parmesan accompanied by a glass of Malbec (which, I have to admit, made me feel terribly grown up).

On the walk back to the Path train I couldn’t resist popping back into Patisserie Rocco for a post-dinner cappuccino and mini pastry, where I proceeded to read my book by candlelight and do a spot more people watching. Afterwards, caught up in the sights and sounds around me I walked a block too far and had to retrace my steps to find the train.

When I got back to the apartment I was horrified to find a two-inch long centipede on the bathroom floor. Immobilised by fear, I backed out of the room to find my phone and Googled it to see if they were dangerous. Fortunately the answer was no; apparently ‘house centipedes,’ as they call them, are commonplace in the New York area, and whilst they’re not particularly pleasant bedfellows they are harmless and they even help control other pests like spiders (given that spiders are my worst enemy in the insect world, I suppose that means centipedes should really be considered friends?).

All in all another eventful day in the U, S of A…