A weekend of nothing
Friday’s diary for work was rather bare, and for once I didn’t mind. I had plans to drive to see Mrs DannyUK this weekend, and a diary that was empty after 3pm meant I could make an early start.
Even better, my last appointment was in Daventry, which put me much closer to Liverpool than had I driven straight from home in Chelmsford.
Our plans for the weekend had become something of a running joke between the two of us during the week. Neither of us are great at making plans. Or rather, we are when we need to, but neither of us relishes the idea of the process of actually making plans.
Maneuvering expertly past most of the end of week rush hour traffic, I got to the Wirral around 6pm and parked up. I’d already WhatsApped ahead to say that I was starving and needed food, and we had reservations at a local restaurant for 6.30pm.
We ate great food, we drank with the careless abandon of two parents that are without kids for a couple of days, and after popping in - and quickly leaving due to the queues at the bar - the local pub, we found ourselves having a quick drink in the second of the three pubs that are equally close to the girlfriend’s home.
It wasn’t even 9pm by the time we’d had enough, and though we chose to each have a Mini Guinness cocktail just before leaving (a Tia Maria topped with Baileys), it’s safe to say that we were both happily merry as we stepped outside.
Once home, we did what all long-distance relationship couples do when they are back together. We hopped into bed. If, when we die, we get to look back at past events in our lives, that evening would be filed under the “simple and happy” column.
Naturally, being so early in the evening, we hadn’t jumped into bed to grab 40 winks, and as our non-sleeping bedtime activity came to a simultaneous (yay!) end, the right side of my head suddenly felt as though it was going to explode.
I’ve never felt anything like it come on so suddenly, and within seconds of finishing, I found myself clutching my head as what by now was obviously a migraine gripped my skull.
My other half was concerned, and fussed around me (in the nicest way possible), fetching some migraine tablets and turning off lights.
I lay in the dark, partly wondering what on earth had happened, and partly willing the sharp pain to subside.
As anyone who has experienced migraines will tell you, there is precious little that will help overcome either the pain or the nausea. I’ve been fortunate in the past to at least have some small warning sign that an episode is forthcoming, but this had hit me like a bolt from the blue.
Some Googling has revealed that there is, which stands for Headaches associated with Sexual Activity, which isn’t uncommon.
Reading into it, it seems like it could be a one-off, thankfully.
The rest of the weekend was spent with the muggy cloud that comes post-migraine hanging over my head. Saturday was spent feeling as though every sense had been dulled slightly, but thanks in part to having no set agenda, it meant that we could potter about and do very little.
Initial plans to visit Alderley Edge were put to one side and instead we opted to go to Chester, a favourite haunt for us both, and only twenty minutes or so away in the car.
We arrived in the city to be surprised to see that our normal car park had been completely redeveloped and was closed, which threw me slightly as I am a creature of habit. Another car park was quickly found, and we meandered through the ancient streets before settling down in a local Costa and enjoying a coffee.
One of the nicest things about this relationship is that I have never felt any pressure to “do” something. I have found not only the person that I want to spend my life with, but also someone who is equally at home sitting in Costa and reading as I am.
We finished the afternoon with a late lunch at a local restaurant before heading home.
Getting home, we opted to once again make the most of our alone time, and fortunately this time we managed to make it through without injury.
The rest of the evening was spent watching “Fail” videos on YouTube, catching up with First Dates and Gogglebox on catch-up, and ordering yet more food for delivery.
I write this as we are again sat in Costa, this time on a Sunday morning. My other half is happily reading Wit by Iain Banks which is her most recent book club choice. (If book club were like Fight Club and had rules, I suspect that the first rule of book club would be “Don’t bend the spine!” as this seems to be an avid belief of every book-lover I have met.)
I, on the other hand, have flitted between writing this blog post, playing AdVenture Capitalist on my phone (a game which seems fun, but also seems quite limited so far), and reading the Matt Haig book Reasons To Stay Alive, which has had some excellent reviews.
As weekends go, many would probably deem this dull. For me, even including the migraine, it’s been wonderful. I’m dreading going home, partly because of the 4 hour (at best) drive, but mostly because I don’t want to leave my girlfriend behind.
We’ve so much stuff coming up together soon that I’m looking forward to so many different things (including a holiday abroad, some time in London, a theatre visit and a trip to Bletchley Park to name but a handful of things), but it’s never enough.