That Sunday night feeling

For the first time in thirteen months, I have that Sunday night feeling. I sympathise with all of you in full time employment who know this feeling well.

I resent the fact that you have to iron your entire wardrobe and polish your shoes on a weekend. I hate the fact that I have been thinking about what to wear tomorrow for the last 3 hours. But what I'm dreading most of all is the thought of the alarm going off at some ungodly hour. That's going to take some serious getting used to.

I haven't had the best preparation for the week ahead as my body went into shutdown mode early on in the week. A sick bug attacked me and wrestled me to bed for three days allowing me to drink only water and eat pretty much just bread and plain biscuits. Not nice. However, with my Mum's expert care and a quiet weekend recovering I am now fighting fit and ready to do battle with the world and his wife on the trains tomorrow. Fortunately, this all happened after the 'meet the team' lunch on Tuesday which was a great success. (And, no, I didn't wear a suit in the end, in case you were wondering.)

Speaking of weekends, my Mum, Dad, Rhod and I decided to take advantage of the weather and head for Richmond Park today. After our walk we headed out of the park's Richmond Gate and noticed a string of coaches parked outside a hotel. As we drew nearer we noticed it was the French rugby team's fleet ready to take them to Twickenham. In true stalker fashion, we got out and hung around the coach door for a while with a few French fans also eagerly awaiting the team. After a tip off we found out that they were actually staying at the Petersham Hotel down a narrow one-way street on the opposite side of the road and would be walking up the path to meet the coach. We decided to outsmart them and drove around to the hotel itself in the hope of seeing them leave. However, by the time we had made the 10 minute detour to get down to the hotel the crafty French had sneaked out and up the path. We however spent the next 15 minutes standing smugly yet blissfully unaware in the hotel carpark watching the filfthy rich come in and out of the most exclusive hotel in Richmond. After giving up, we emerged from the top of the one way street to find the coaches gone. Oh well, we may not have outwitted the French team, but at least the England team did!

Anyway, I should really get to bed; I'm going to WORK tomorrow!