Let the celebrations begin!
Sometimes amongst all the diet, let’s rebase my life to healthy I just think, “fuck it!” and only the nastiest, greasiest, dripping in an amalgamation of goo, burger will do. And today was one of those days.
It was dripping in all of that and the cheese despite its baleesha beacon orange colour tasted of blue cheese. Regardless of the calamitous sludge left on my tray, it was delicious, utterly… even though I returned to the office with a visible burger-baby about my person.
It’s been a tough few days, I’m not going to deny it, for a few reasons and it’s left me reflecting on a great many things, relentlessly and endlessly. Not quite life, the universe and everything, but close. The answer wasn’t 42 though.
A friend was playing with her orchestra, in a pub in Highgate (Boogaloo) accompanying Dub Steps. I’m not going to lie to you, it was a case of erm oh them. Regardless the music was good, the orchestra better, but my dear fiends the best. Sage, insightful advice and reasoning.
As I walked the 1.5miles home with music in my ears and flip-flops afoot, I pondered their advice and life, the universe and everything and realised the answer was Me.
I truly have great friends.
I’m not going to lie to you, when the email came around at work on my first day that they were going to do a sports day complete with wheel barrow racing, it’s all I could do to stop myself from slamming my head off the desk.
When I read the detail of the email *that* turned to “you’ve got to be fucking joking me?!” … “Health week will culminate with a sports day in Hyde Park with such activities as the egg and spoon race; the sack race and the wheelbarrow race” … The Fuck?!
So after 5 weeks of being in the job, you’re expecting me to crawl along a potentially shit-strewn park, with my legs akimbo, in the hands of a near stranger … I. Don’t. Think. So!! No-no-no-no…No!
A week before the said date I’m almost thankful I’ve wrecked my back and I’m needing physio and acupuncture ~ valid excuse, booya! Come the day however, these are not my feelings, I’m screaming with the rest of my team wishing I wasn’t the sparrow with the broken wing, wishing I could join in.
It was awesome.
As I’m in the pub afterwards with the guys I look around and think “yeah, this is my team” … then the jaeger bombs arrive and yeah turns into “hell yeah” … not so much 7 hours later, not remotely.