Friday, September 24, 2010

Someone once told me when you turn 30 you don't get hangovers any more

They lied. And when I meet up with her in a pub tomorrow to watch bogans and pretty boys clash, I shall make this very clear to her.

Despite drinking my own body weight in Bintang daily last week and waking up fresh as a (sweaty) daisy, last night we went to the premier of a surfing flick made by a friend of Mr CB's and several drinkies were had. This morning I felt like death, vommed for hours and had to cancel a meeting I had in Newport. Undeserved hangovers are the worst. Mr CB reckons it's stress and that I needed to let a bit loose.

With the opening of Selfridge's insane new shoe department and the strong Aussie dollar, are you thinking what I'm thinking? Hmm... shame my account has almost been drained, no shopping trips for me. In better financial news, I did receive a cheque in the mail for $1.68 from Citibank for an account I closed, oh, I don'y know, 6 months ago? Clearly all financial worries have come to an end.

Mr CB, ie the best husband in the world, is currently purchasing me a kebab. Despite the fact that he worked his little bottom off today and I only left the couch to get another Zooper Dooper. Bless him.

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