Ugh, the stress is eating my stomach lining again. It's work - I'd spill it all out on the page in hope of a cathartic redemption, but it's confidential of course and tedious in the extreme, so. Let's just say that checking your emails at about midnight on a Friday night while under the influence, then seeing something you realllllllly didn't want to see in there is BALLS. Don't do it, you spend the next two days chewing on it!
So yes, Wellington. I like Wellington. I told P as we were leaving that if he got offered a job there, I wouldn't veto it. We had a lovely time with really good friends and I am now finding that I absolutely do not feel like recapping it. This is likely because I gave my mother the rundown via email yesterday. I did skip the bit about D and M buying us all tequila shots, which we downed and promptly all went to bed because fuck that, way too old. Also, I skipped the bit when I went to a skody bar in town in my converse sneakers because I had nothing to change into - I discovered that (a) cardigans are not really acceptable Courtney Place attire post-midnight on a Friday and (b) I don't know how to dance without wearing heels.
Laziest. Blogger. Ever.
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