1) Give the nice girl from your office a lift home. Enjoy a gossip.
2) Decide en route to the maison to get fish and chips. After all, the husband is at a late meeting in Nyerrrrcasstle and is staying up there with your parents. You need SOME comfort in the misery that the knowledge of them all cosy together brings, don't you?
3) Eat fish and chips (curry sauce a Northern optional extra).
4) Drink a glass of wine.
5) Listen to Mike Harding's folk hour on BBC Radio 2. Love one's life.
6) Work out how to download Spotify. Realise you were five billion years behind everyone else. Enjoy it nevertheless. Be reminded of the vocal perfection of Damien Dempsey.
7) Toy with the idea of doing something remotely productive. Disregard such thoughts on the basis that you have been attempting to do something productive all day and failing spectacularly.
And it helps to have the loveliest husband of all time who send you flowers to work knowing that it will embarass you horribly (despite my love for Bev-On-Reception) but will also Make Your Fecking Day.
Well. Time for bed and my book club book, methinks.
2) Decide en route to the maison to get fish and chips. After all, the husband is at a late meeting in Nyerrrrcasstle and is staying up there with your parents. You need SOME comfort in the misery that the knowledge of them all cosy together brings, don't you?
3) Eat fish and chips (curry sauce a Northern optional extra).
4) Drink a glass of wine.
5) Listen to Mike Harding's folk hour on BBC Radio 2. Love one's life.
6) Work out how to download Spotify. Realise you were five billion years behind everyone else. Enjoy it nevertheless. Be reminded of the vocal perfection of Damien Dempsey.
(singing one of them Pogues' songs - contains one of the most beautiful lyrics of all time - 'You're the measure of my dreams.")
7) Toy with the idea of doing something remotely productive. Disregard such thoughts on the basis that you have been attempting to do something productive all day and failing spectacularly.
And it helps to have the loveliest husband of all time who send you flowers to work knowing that it will embarass you horribly (despite my love for Bev-On-Reception) but will also Make Your Fecking Day.
Well. Time for bed and my book club book, methinks.
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