House of OCD....trip to Ikea.

As I predicted, Friday night, otherwise known as ‘return from Epsom’ became a travesty of the highest order.

Throughout the day I was lucky enough to receive little gems of updates about the gambling progress and various wins along the way.

I even received a moderately coherent phone call at around 7.30pm when I was told that Steve was at Epsom train station and should be home by 8.30pm, handy given that I was due to meet him at 8pm at his and was there twiddling my thumbs.

An hour or so later I was getting bored (ish- although Big Brother was keeping me entertained!) so gave him a call, only to find he’d become dramatically more pissed (darn those booze trolleys on the trains) and was not at Clapham Junction as expected, but at Waterloo. Back in 45 mins he slurred. I grumpily accepted. Another hour passes….’Where are you? I thought you were getting on the tube an hour ago’…..and where is he? The West End, in some fancy restaurant bar having champers. Brilliant. Home in 45mins. You get the picture. An hour later. ‘Where are you’….in a cab. Another lie! In total a series of 5 drunken, heinously bad lies and a total of almost 4 hours late to meet me. And when he did, my god, I’ve rarely seen him drunker.

Result- Ali gets a lovely sparkling new black ipod docking station with amazing speakers and treated to several nice dinners out over the weekend. Bought from guilt. To be fair though my Friday night was RUINED (it matters not that I would have sat there anyway watching big brother and ugly betty….the fact remains, I was stood up!).

Tonight- the house of obsessive compulsives, plus Sam, who qualifies very nicely as she’s as OCD about cleaning as me are going on an outing to Ikea. Lindsey will be in heaven as they provide little tape measures so she can inspect the display stands are up to scratch. I will be in heaven as I can buy new sparkly things to make the place more girly and less boyish and minging and Sam will be in heaven as she is on her own as G has buggered off to New York, so needs lots of love and TLC. Hotdogs for dinner then.

Sod the DIY, it's date night....

So, tonight I’m ditching the paintbrushes, bidding a fond farewell to the varnish, taking a step away from the steamer and spending an evening with my lovely boyfriend. Yes it’s Thursday so that means DATE night. A night spent exchanging sweet nothings, cuddling up on sofas, watching films, eating out somewhere fancy and generally enjoying each other’s company. I really ought to be cracking on with the DIY but a girl has her limits and my brown varnish hands and paint splattered hands and legs have pretty much finished me off.

Given the *limited success of previous date nights, I’m kind of hoping that this one goes smoothly, and I think adding the whole ‘I miss you because I don’t live with you anymore’ element might be a sweetener. We shall see I suppose.

Tomorrow is Epsom ladies day. I’m not going of course as I’m neither a horse lover or a lady, but Steve is. He’s taking a posse of tarted up brokers and will spend the day getting hammered on champagne, talking about insurance (YAWN) and generally being smooth (ish). I’ve come to the conclusion that he used up his charm and smoothness in the line of duty at work which is why most times when he sees me he can barely crack a smile! Or maybe it’s me…..probably the latter. I’m sure this means that by Monday I’ll have a whole host of amusing tales from my weekend.

I think tomorrow night I’m going to campaign that Lindsey and I should go and explore Hampstead and Primrose hill and see which minor celebs we can spot. We’ve already spotted a few in our local…well Lindsey has.

Over and out for now, Ali xx