Dizzy, swooning, head in the toilet later, I spent the next hour careering round the office groggily whilst attempting to load up injections, run baths, and mash potato. I'll never know how Mums can take to gin. Drugs and mothering just doesn't mix.
After work, spat out into the cold night, I just about managed to board the tube and drag myself to Leicester Square to meet Bob. She found me in the middle of the traffic island gently weeping as tourists tutted about how the West End was going down hill. Is she in a gang?
We thought just
the thing to soothe me was a Pret meatball wrap (deliciously outrageous as we'd never usually spend money on sandwiches out).
Tummies full, we went to empty our wallets on £14 cinema tickets to see Love and Other Drugs. The ads were almost too much for me to take in my heightened state of senses. So BRIGHT. So LOUD. Please STOP! Managed to stick it out.
p.s Bob, do you remember when the door of the coach hit him in the face? Hahahahahaha.
We're very mean. Our favourite bits were when they got hurt, and when we kept thinking the girl had died when she was just asleep.
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