The ultimate cure for a hangover and melancholy

I’m in Glasgow, and I’ve gotten here early. Waiting to meet Sarah, so I’ll take this chance to get caught up on the blog.

I didn’t go home on Friday night. Wasn’t intentional. The Intern had left, and all the files and office ‘stuff’ had been packed. As I stood in that back office with all its glazing looking out to the garden, the trees turning red and gold, it dawned on me, truly dawned on me, how much I had changed in two and a half years. Lorainne and Philip have become my family, London and Paris my sisters living away. And LadyBohemia my lost grandmother.

I truly hope no one from home is reading this blog any longer because, of course, my Mum is my mum, and I my Nan will always be a part of my life. So, I’m not negating my real family, but in hindsight these last two and a half years in Dundee have been wonderful because of everyone associated with the Agency.

As I stood there, in the solarium, all this came crashing down. Also, because I work so much, I don’t have a lot of friends outside of the Agency. PosPhD (and all the people I because friendly with) moved years ago, and HP…well, you know how well that’s going at the moment.

So suddenly all this would be gone, and I was suddenly and deeply sad that I wouldn’t be transferred to London. Without realising it, I was looking forward to moving back home. Seeing Donna and Mike regularly, helping Mum. Then it’s taken away.

Lorainne could see how upset I was (it wasn’t difficult, I was bawling snot and tears), so she handed me a glass of wine, brought me into the kitchen and we sat down and chatted. We talked about LadyBohemia, my Mum, buying her house, London and Paris’ problems with Giles. We talked about whether or not I should follow London and Paris and leave the Agency (in the end we decided ‘no’, because there was no guarantee about keeping the buy-out if I leave, and buying Mum’s house is more important). We talked about Giles in general. We talked about Lorainne leaving and, as it turns out, she’s just as worried as us.

As the night went on, I drank. Philip switched us to Bloody Marys and I passed out at their house. I woke up in the guest bedroom, with a sore head. Philip gave me a smoothie and a banana, and with Lorainne out he said he was going to take me on a expedition that was sure to cure my hangover.

I was already amazed that I didn’t feel worse, and Philip said that was thanks to the Bloody Marys. The lycopene in the tomato juice is good for hangovers, and…oh, this part is important…he didn’t put any vodka in them because I was already off my tits.

I rummaged some gym clothes out of the office moving boxes (about a year ago I got a notion that I was going to start going to the gym during lunch, not only did that never happen, I never even signed up for a gym membership) and Philip dragged me off to the woods.

Path By Dronley WoodsYeah, sounds bad, and normally me in the wilderness would be like a horror film, but I was still feeling quite a bit melancholy and I wasn’t ready to go home (HP never even texted to find out where I was). So off we were to Dronley Woods up the back of Dundee.

We walked the woods in near silence, the swaying trees creaking over our heads. We walked in the morning shadows until I felt like we’d covered every acre. When we were done, he was right. My headache was gone and I felt like I could keep on walking. So we did.

We followed a path that led along an old rail line. It weaved through the hedge rows and under tree canopies and eventually through a disused rail tunnel.

Railway SignThe great thing about walking with Philip is that he didn’t make it a competition. We didn’t rush. We just ambled and when there was a little wall or a bench, we’d stop, have a drink of water, and he’d take some biscuits out his backpack.

Finally we found ourselves on the main road, so we popped down and took the bus into Birkhill and had a late lunch/early dinner at the Inn. Then we walked another mile or so back to the car park where we started.

I wasn’t home until late, and HP and Katie were no where to be found. I thought that maybe they were next door with Candy, but no answer when I knocked. Not a word or a text, from them. I got a tub of salted caramel ice cream out of the fridge and started to watch Dr Who, which totally pissed me off because it reminded me of HP. So, I switched to a film and fell asleep on the sofa until…

Shit, it’s getting later than I thought. I need to go meet Sarah. Wish me luck and I’ll fill you in on the rest later.


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