You know you’re getting old when you can’t handle going out two nights in a row.
I had such a manic time last weekend, I’m only just about getting over it now.
It started at a charity do at the De Vere New Place Hotel at Shirrell Heath, organised by my cousin, Alex Burrows.
It was a posh frock and black tie affair, but I was told via the grapevine that ballgowns weren’t essential, so I decided to opt for a bright red and white polka dot mini.
Now there are a few things wrong with this choice.
1) I stuck out like a sore thumb
2) I should have retired my minis when I hit 25
3) It was so tight it left no room to breathe. With a three-course meal served, this left me with a predicament – pretend to eat, but don’t really have that much so as to preserve my dignity and beauty of said outfit, or eat all three courses and look like an overstuffed doll who you’d be forgiven for thinking was about three months’ pregnant.
I chose the latter. If any of you are on the 5:2 diet (total loss so far 9lbs), then you’ll understand why.
The day before I had been on a fast day and so felt compelled to eat everything I could before I’d have to stick to another gruelling 500 calorie-day. You’ve never seen anyone so elated by the bread rolls on the table. I thought I might actually cry when they were served with cubes of real butter.
It was a fantastic evening which raised money for Help For Heroes and the Asthma UK charity.
Anyway, moving on to the next day this was my best friend’s hen do. I’ll edit out the bits that us ladies like to keep to ourselves (you know the bits I’m talking about chicks), but basically we went out in Southampton all day, which included a visit to the Mayflower theatre to watch Priscilla: Queen of the Desert.
It was such an incredible weekend, but both nights I didn’t crawl home until the early hours of the morning.
On Sunday I had to get up to take my sister’s children to a family fun day at Marwell.
By 6pm I had to close my eyes. I’m now at that ‘nap’ stage of my life. Oh dear.