My head the next day
Brighton Travel Blog› entry 4 of 9 › view all entries
I opened my eyes. The tiny voice had been right...
Ouch. No, really man, Ouch. I got up. Ouch. I put the kettle on, and peeked outside the window. Really, really, ouch.
I had three cups of coffee at breakfast and started to feel human. Actually, the picture on my profile is cup of coffee number four. Feeling a little fortified, we went exploring. We decided against the Pavillion, and just wandered about in the sunshine with me drinking lemonade because I had to drive home, and Matt drinking beer because he didn't. Crispy Fried had his first seaside icecream, which he liked, and sat in my handbag with my camera like a good plastic duck. At some point, I lost all my money, but luckily my plastic cards were in a separate purse, so all was not ruined. Eventually, though, Matt had to go, and so did I.
By the time I had to brave the M25 I was feeling alright, but of course, it's harder to keep a good mood going back to Swindon than it is leaving it, because on Saturday I was going to meet an old friend and on Sunday I was going to... well... do my laundry and ignore an essay, and then get up early for work. Ho hum. Radio 1 back on, Matt dropped at the station, back to real life.
I cheered myself up with some noodles on the way home, and went back to my real world. Within a couple of days, the rain started.