Absolutely swimmingly

Things are incredibly happy and going extremely well with my new man. We became “official” on the 9th of this month, exactly a month since we met. Ooooooh. I feel like a teenager again.

Last weekend we spent the whole weekend together, Friday through Sunday. It was magic. I always think that’s a good test as to whether you can put up with each other for a long period or if one person feels awkward and wants space. Especially as in a 36 hour period you need to poop, brush your teeth multiple times, re-apply make up (which I didn’t, and it didn’t scare him “eyes and smile”…) and barely get any sleep. I’m not being dirty here, I’m meaning that whole new period of learning to sleep with someone new in your bed. It’s touch and go as to whether it works or not, or if you both just end up shattered because neither of you can completely relax to sleep properly. I find 36 hours a good test, you can’t hide anything!

So last week, after our 36 hour trial, we had our first sleepover on a school night. Amazing. His house is much closer to work than mine (20 minute bus ride – FTW), so after enjoying a sleep in (and that, yes), we were up, showered, suited and booted, make up on (just me) and out the door for a walk to his local coffee shop in his quaint part of the village. It was the most serene and romantic commute I have ever done.

After another couple days together this weekend, before he had to head to York to see his parents and for work early next week, he’s requested another school night sleepover. I am so looking forward to it.

He owns his place, and his friend/housemate that has been staying is actually moving out in a month. It’s way, way, way too soon, but the crazy girl inside me (we all have one) is thrilled at the possibility of moving in with him one day. Yes, I said it (not to him). I only think it, because I’ve never had a relationship move so fluidly and quickly as this one. I’m not going to mention it, and I’m sure he won’t for 6-18 months, but the rosy bubble our relationship is in right now makes me dream.

If he ever found this post, he’d probably freak out. Although he didn’t when he found my Tuscan Wedding board on Pinterest…

Absolutely swimmingly

Something for fatters

“Something for fatters afters.”

I sent this memo to myself while semi drunk after client drinks (that’s 70% of recruitment in London) and “after” auto corrected to “fatter”.

YES, APPLE! I’m fatter since working in London’s booze-fuelled recruitment hub and even fatter since having a boyfriend from northern England where a standard meal includes crisps, chips, some sort of sauce, a hefty portion of meat and a sweet treat to conclude. Something he’s always called, for the duration of the two years I’ve known him as, “something for afters“.

I don’t know if this is a British term, a northern British term or just something my boyfriend says, but the mushy, saddo in me finds it cute. So when I phoned him on my way home in my pickled-state to ask if he needed anything from the shops this was his request.

Of course I then went home (sweet treat of chocolate in my bag) and picked a fight with him, over nothing, and he smiled, kissed me and said “Bron, you’re drunk, go to bed.”

I’m lucky he’s so patient.


Something for fatters

Dinner of champions. Or fatties.

I was going very well until dinner; a bottle of wine, mashed potato and a Kit Kat Chunky. I blame work. And our epic month of billing. We had to celebrate. But I should have gone home and had the chicken and salad I’d originally planned on.

Wine, White, Dry, Sauvignon Blanc 250ml, 750 ml 534
Lurpack – Lighter Spreadable Butter, 10 g 54
White Potatoes – Potatoes, 70 g 57
Kit Kat – Chunky (Chocolate), 1 bar 247
Total calories

I’m back on it again today. Although the man and I, and a couple of friends are heading to the Kopparberg Urban Forest tonight for some cider and live music in the sunshine.

Dinner of champions. Or fatties.