What an awful day

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It feels like I haven’t been around for a while, and I guess I haven’t what with the traveling and celebrating, but I’m home now and I had been planning all these posts in my mind while I was away, but somewhere along the way I lost my mojo and I blame it all on one terrible terrible day.

So, it all started of pretty well actually.

It was my last day in Spain and our flight wasn’t until the evening so I spent the day by the pool and enjoying the last of the sunshine before packing my bag. Up until now it had been a great holiday and I’d even managed to get a bit of a tan (which is very surprising so for me since I’m pale as ghost the rest of the time). And then we headed to the airport.

The first bad thing to happen was finding out that our flight was delayed. Luckily it was only by about 40 minutes, but it was already a late flight and I had work the next day, so the slight delay was eating into my sleep for the night. There really isn’t a lot to do at Malaga airport, so waiting seemed to take sooo long and all I wanted to do was go to bed.

The flight itself was rather uneventful and I’d booked a window seat so I just watched the world go by.

Bye bye Spain!
Bye bye Spain!

Then we landed at Gatwick. It’s had some renovations done since the last time I’d been and when you get to passport control they encourage those that are able to go though the self service style passport checking because “it’s faster”. What a lie. It is not only slower waiting in line, the machines themselves are quite slow and if you’ve not done it before the instructions are a little confusing. Next time, I’ll see a person, thanks.

My parents had parked in one of the long stay parking places, and we had to get a bus from arrivals to where the car was parked, which in theory doesn’t sound too bad, right? Now add about another 100 people who also had the same idea, several suitcases and a very small bus. After more waiting, we finally got to our car. Nearly home!

By now it was around half past midnight, and I hadn’t really eaten since dinner serveral hours ago back in Spain, so we were going to stop in Mcdonalds. The 24 hour Mcdonalds. 24 hour really suggest to me that it should be open all the time, even if its just for drive through. Boy was I wrong. No food for me, and more sitting in traffic as we tried to get out of the Mcdonalds car park.

Eventually, we were home and I got into bed! It’s about 1:30 AM and I’m just drifting off when I hear a scratching noise. It’s probably nothing I tell myself, until I hear it again, louder this time. I turn on the torch I keep by my bed and shine it in the direction of the noise, and there it is. The culprit. The uninvited guest. A mouse! I’m not scared of mice – during the day that is – at night, when they’re in my space, making scurrying noises in the dark, that’s a different story. I just want to go to sleep, but every time I close my eyes I imagine waking up to it on my pillow or I think I feel something touch my foot. It’s fair to say, I was less than well rested when my alarm went off hours later.

And there you have it. The series of events that stole my mojo and threw all of my creative motivation out the window. I’ve been back a week now and I’m trying to get back to normal, so please bear with me, and in the meantime if anyone wants to pay for me to have a holiday to get over the trauma of coming back, I’m totally down for that!

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