I know this is not what you want to hear, you want me to blog about the meeting with PoshMum. But I’ve got to tell you about Gulf Shores first. Continue reading
I hate laser tag. It’s a stupid waste of energy. Continue reading
I am so red, white and blued, monarchied, and jubileed out. It. Was. Amazing.
I could very possibly spend the next 24 hours writing about the amazing Jubilee weekend, describing every tiny detail from brushing my teeth in the morning to the moment I feel asleep, but that would be ridiculous. Although, I am on such a post-bank-holiday high I could totally do just that and write about everything.
So, in order to avoid boring my bloggy woggy readers, I’ll just hit the highlights. Continue reading
I’m just now home from a weekend away. Yup, did a bunk from work. I know that’s not cool, particularly just now as Loraine is away. But, I probably have a sick day or annual leave or something coming to me. Plus, I needed a bit of time off, just to think. So I did what all good little girls do, and I ran away to Daddy’s house to escape it all. But before I talk about a weekend with Dad (which was actually kind of uneventful), I should tell you how I ended up on a train to Newcastle. Continue reading
Posted in Holidays, Life in Dundee, Life in Glasgow, Notes from the Intern -- The Agency
Tagged dead person's painting, ex friend hates me, exboyfriend hates me, Newcastle, postaday, seeing Dad for the weekend, skiving from work, taking a day off
I’m going to keep this short because Fife said he was going for a ‘quick run’ and he won’t be gone too long.
Yesterday was a fabulous day. We went into the village did a bit of food shopping, and we ran into a couple Fife knows. Like Fife, their cottage is a second home, and they’re only up for the long weekend. We got to chatting, and they suggested that we meet them for dinner in this gastro pub a couple of villages over. Continue reading
Hung over. Again.
Last night. Yeah, last night. I called Fife to come meet me earlier than scheduled, and I got a cocktail at the DCA while I waited. He arrived and because our dinner reservations weren’t for another hour we ordered a bottle of wine. We sat at a table in the corner. He kept leaning in trying to hold my hand, but I was worried. PoshPhD comes to the DCA quite often, what if she saw us? Continue reading