Surreal Happiness, Self Service Checkouts & Sizing my Boobs

What a bloody beaut of an August Bank Holiday, normally by this last 3 day weekend of the year, we are all moaning the shops are replacing the bikinis with bobble hats but at the same time, grateful they are doing so as the weather is shit, but what a nice change to have summer weather, on a summer weekend, the last summer weekend. When I say nice, I mean it is for all you sun lovers, normally I love it too, but I honestly feel that in the last 48 hours I have experienced what it is like to be that shit clay vase I  made in year 8 with Mr Heaton and by that I mean I am pretty sure I have been at a similar temperature of a Kiln. I am sure that to anyone that has seen me this weekend, I must of looked like I had just stepped out of the shower. I mean I have, many a times, as the shower has become my second home, but never have I looked and felt so Hot, and I aint talking about 'sexy hot' (what even is that?).  So let me tell you about my overheated weekend. Strap in, there is much to tell.

The Beard and I booked a little break a few weeks back, after getting the dates through of our treatment, also being bank hols and conveniently payday! We booked Wybosten lakes, not too far away and it offers Molten Brown toiletries. Sold! Anyway, we arrive Friday, after work, check in and find out we have been upgraded. now from the outside, it essentially looks quite dull, it’s a huge complex, spread over a large industrial estate, but the rooms, well what a treat. I noticed Nik looking at me oddly during check in, like kind of recoiling in horror, but eager to get closer, was weird, but I completed check in and of we went. We found the room, ground floor, Result! We got in, and it was beautiful, I was aware it was injection time, so whilst he repeatedly jumped on the huge bed, I got out my sharps bin and lunch box of syringes and drugs. before I knew it, it was done. I looked up with a huge grin, as I literally just whipped it out and stuck it in (THE SYRINGE) and yet I noticed his new odd way of looking at me. 'you ok Leekey' I asked. the reply ' Are YOU ok Leekey' The emphasise on the 'YOU' was enough for me to realise I must be doing something odd. I asked him what he meant and he replied with 'I love you, but you’re being ever so, well nice’ HUH??? ‘like at the check in, you was actually patient and pleasant and didn’t TUT once, it’s just a little weird, I mean wonderful, but weird’ I thought about this and realised 2 things.

1. I wasn’t getting angry by his comment, I mean normally I’d have taken huge offence, even though it’s not that bad, but it’s the kind of thing I’d have jumped on – and I didn’t
2. There for, he is right, I think back to the day and my god, he was right. I’ve been Nice. I’ve been patient, I've been totally different. AND I’m not mad that he is right! I’m not sure how I feel about this, oh hang on, I feel happy!

Realising this makes me sit down, I feel odd. I mean, it’s a good thing right? I’m being nice, I’m smiling, I’m happy, I’m saying thank you, I’m being the normal human being that I normally hate for being ‘too nice’ when in fact, it seems, they are just normal and I’m the mega bitch. I think back over the day, the same, I think back 20 mins to check in, I didn’t even moan about filling in forms that duplicated what I had filled in. Wow. Just wow. Because this was all new to me, I mean I’m not always mean, but I have very little patience, I speak before I think and I can be very unreasonable, and I hate it but I can’t control it. We decide to go find somewhere to eat as the hotel restaurant is full, another thing that would normally irate me, but was fine and off we went. We found a beautiful little pub, we ate wonderful food, we was served by wonderful staff and I just had the best time. I was texting my nearest and dearest saying ‘this is weird but I’m being strangely nice and I’m so happy’ The Beard was texting his mates saying ‘ I’m scared, so scared’. I started to worry and say sorry, sorry as I kept smiling, LOL seriously what was happening. The Beard kept telling me not to apologise but to embrace it. My closest friends, a little more straight to the point, told me ‘I give it an hour’ and told him ‘to sleep with one eye open’ We finished dinner, we paid, I tipped, and over tipped and I also said thank you and praised the staff, WTF, all the time smiling. To make it better, I was enjoying it, really enjoying it. Would this stick around? Would this end as quick as it started? Well I was about to find out as we pulled up in Lidl car park so we could get some ‘snacks’. If I could get round this supermarket, pay and leave with the smile still on my face, I was considering how quickly The Beard could get me admitted’

Whoever  the chuff thought that self-service tills would A. Increase profit. B. provide a great customer service and C. be suitable for those with high blood pressure and heart issues need to be locked in a supermarket, against a clock, crystal maze style, with no actual human staff, no Richard O’Brien (former Crystal maze baldie)  and they have to complete their check out in one go, with no errors, bagging problems or any issues, if they do not complete the task, they get no crystal, no shopping and a life of pushing trollies that all have a dodgy front wheel.  These tills are, for a better word, TOSSERS. Rubbish robots, shit shopping sat navs and a complete load of utter toss. See how just thinking about them angers me? Well this is how happy I was Friday, I was at said check out, where I have never felt so intimidated by the sheer volume of the talking tosser, and how did I cope?? BRILLIANTLY!! Ask any of the local asda staff, I am not a fan and this just puts in perspective, how surreal I felt at being OK with this

We went back to our room, we laughed at how the evening had been and we slept, agreeing to wake and shop. On a Saturday. Another test.

We woke, we ate breakfast, we got in car, we hit traffic, all the time I was still happy. We shopped, I got my boobs measured, I was shocked and had to spend money on new bras, I brought a teapot (again WTF) We left. All was absolutely lovely. Perfect, no stress, relaxed, smiling, this was great. I was hungry and really fancied a healthy big mac. The Beard informed me we’d stop at one near the hotel. I agreed, another thing that was odd, normally I would moan and sulk, but instead I was happily singing away to Boney M with the Beard. We got to Maccy D’s, couldn’t park as full ‘let’s drive through’ I said, something I never say, we did, we ordered, we was told to park up and they would bring it over, we pulled off, came to a zebra crossing, stopped, to let the 2 ladies cross.  A family crossed, 2 workmen crossed, another family crossed, but the 2 ladies? Didn’t move. Then I realised, there they stood in there ‘fitness gear’ chatting. Bloody chatting, no intention of crossing or any awareness of us, holding up a hungry drive through queue of cars awaiting for them to cross, I told the beard to go. And as he did I made sure the window was undone and shouted rather loudly as we passed ‘IT’S. A. CROSSING, CROSS NOT CHAT’ I immediately felt embarrassed and The Beard who would  normally look horrified looked as happy as a pig in shit! He raised his palm and said ‘High 5 me Wife, as the bitch is still there, all is safe’

I had the best time being Happy, and yes I was also glad that I had momentarily back to bitch blip, but it meant I had it in me, I was adverse to being nice, positive, and even if we fall in the 35% rather than the 65% percent at the end of this, it means that hopefully my hormone problem would be rectified and I could be a much nicer person in the future.

As I said, a turbulent weekend, and that’s not even all of it, but I have gone on enough, for which I apologise, but I wanted to get across just how up and down it appears this journey can be.

Have a great BH Monday.

A Desperate Mummy To Be x