15st 5lb, 6.0 units. Back in Cheshire for a quiet weekend. Really quiet, in fact, as Mrs H went off to Chester yesterday evening for a “hen night”, leaving me home alone without The Boy, since clearly I could not be trusted to look after him. In the circles in which I used to move in London, this would have been celebrated as the issue of a rare “pink ticket” for an evening of male socializing (probably invoving some combination of binge drinking, gambling, lap dancing and flirting with strangers, if not actually shagging them). But unfortunately I have no male friends in Cheshire with whom to share any of the above, always assuming that I had the energy, which I don’t. I tried to make myself sound a bit of a martyr to Mrs H as she headed off for her night out, but she correctly pointed out that I don’t have any male friends in Northumberland, either. Or indeed female friends, there or anywhere else.
She’s not wrong, but it’s sad to be reminded that the best I can manage on an evening of total freedom is reading the Saturday newspaper supplements over half a bottle Tasmanian pinot noir, and watching half an hour of John Bishop on the telly.
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