Last night me and some of the mammies from the school (whom I've known for, oooh, 5 years now) went out for a bite to eat and a fair amount to drink. It was fantastic. I was in foul form when I met up with everyone as . . . I am sick of cleaning my house. Sick of it. Sick of cleaning pee off the toilet. Sick of dusting. Sick of hoovering. Sick of housework. Sick of shouting. Sick of repeating myself. Blah, blah, blah.
Turns out I am not the only one. Don't you love going out with your girlfriends? You tell them a story about how you haven't slept for a week due to your other half snoring and they tell you how they sat looking at their other half snoring whilst calculating his life assurance value. Or how he feeds himself first when they get in after a big day out and then gives out about the kids whining that they're hungry.
Incidently we went to Ciao in Malahide and I had rabbit and the best steak EVER. I also didn't drink, too wound up over the cleaning thing. The cake thing and the headache that was at the back of my brain all day. (OOh, and your mates will always, always have good painkillers in their bags) which meant I got up today feeling good. Not like last time where I woke up feeling ancient (cos I remembered the dj was 6 when I was 13) and too much tequilla. One of the mammies always ALWAYS buys one last round, "for the road like".
So anyway, to the women who have been part of my life for over 6 years now. Thanks for putting up with me and I promsie never EVER to name you.
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