Saturday, 12 September 2009

The Joy of Paracetamol

I had a long booking last night, and don't think I could've survived it without the help of paracetamol. There's nothing poetic about the rhythmic pounding of my head banging in unison with the rhythmic pounding I was getting from Mr Jones*. Luckily I was past the point of nausea by the time I met him - vomit would almost certainly obliterate my chances of a repeat booking!

I've agreed to go out for a drink with barman tonight. I haven't been alone with him before (or outside the walls of his bar). I'm actually quite nervous, but can't deny that I adore those butterflies in my stomach...

Wish me luck,

Brooke x

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