web analytics

It’s not the despair. I can stand the despair; it’s the hope that's killing me

873827610_a086ec6ebd

You might think you’ve come to the wrong place. You might think that i’m about to introduce a guest blogger. You’d be wrong. But there is something out of the ordinary going on here today, something different to the usual as i’m going to give you a weekend update; mainly because it was so bad it’s actually worth blogging about for once.

I think I’ve blogged before about how hopeless I am at births, marriages and deaths. Actually you should make that anything I need to think about, act upon, shop for, or turn up to. I’m far better at words than actions. I haven’t even managed to send off my divorce papers 2 years after they were signed. I fail every time. Including at Valentines Day. Yes, I even failed at Valentines Day.

I am officially hopeless.

But as usual I have an excuse. Multiple excuses:

a) I was honestly going to pop along to the posh shop on Saturday morning and buy him a card but instead I had accidentally ended up staying at the boy’s for the night.

b) I also didn’t expect him to offer to spend the day going shopping with me for a new handbag. I thought there might be football on, that I might get even a small half hour of opportunity to get a card.

c) I totally under estimated him  – I didn’t expect to receive a fancy card, a rose, strawberries and a chocolate lolly heart.

I didn’t even get him a card. Yes I know I am officially an awful girlfriend.

He then took me for lunch at Café Anduluz for my favourite food – tapas – and refused to let me pay; he bought sirloin steaks for dinner from the butcher; and then took me out to Bond No9 (Leith’s own champagne bar where I had a ‘Kara Blossom’) when I wasn’t hungry enough to have the steaks, just yet.

But to really top it all off, he put me in a taxi when I started to feel ill; made me a cup of hot water to help my poor tummy; helped me climb the stairs when I couldn’t walk anymore; listened to me be sick; put me to bed with a hot water bottle and kissed me on the head and told me he loved me despite the fact I was terribly ill. All the time.

And I didn’t get him a card.

Suggestions on how the hell I make this one up to him welcome…

Kx

Comments
8 Responses to “It’s not the despair. I can stand the despair; it’s the hope that's killing me”
  1. I think it’s pretty obvious how to make it up to him and may require you to splash out on some new undies. Everyone’s a winner really…

    [Reply]

  2. miss smidge says:

    and smut suggestions are welcome ;) this is an adults blog after all..

    [Reply]

  3. kylie says:

    Aww. I feel bad for you…not him! It sucks being sick on holidays! I’m sure he understands. My hubs didn’t even get me a card and I bought him two!! I guess that’s what marriage will do to us…
    I would also take Phoebe’s advice though. New panties always work well! ;) Have a great week! Get feeling better!!

    [Reply]

  4. Aww that sounds like one sweet man.
    Just be nice to him. Sometimes small things are better than grand gestures.

    [Reply]

  5. Brennig says:

    Smut suggestion: send him a photo or two… :)

    [Reply]

  6. emma says:

    I’d have to agree with the consensus here – whatever smutty or kinky thought you may have, go with that impulse, surprise him (but don’t scare him) and he’ll be very happy indeed.

    Btw, I just stumbled upon your blog and so happy to have found you!

    [Reply]

  7. miss smidge says:

    All good suggestions, smut is always welcome ;)

    Emma Welcome! Ill get catching up with your blog :)

    [Reply]

  8. viagra says:

    If you have to do it, you might as well do it right

    [WORDPRESS HASHCASH] The poster sent us ’0 which is not a hashcash value.

    [Reply]

Leave A Comment