My funny week of WHAT THE F*CK!

Sorry about the title, but it’s necessary!

Monday started on a high – I had managed to secure a writing job and considering I have been looking and applying for writing assignments for about three weeks, it was welcome.

After initial communication through a writing website; ‘Lets Skype’ the company/person says, ‘Sure’ – I say (with a fake American accent in my head)!

We connect via messaging, I go through a short interview and I get the job. ‘So, what about payment, when do I get paid?’ I ask! ‘Friday’ faceless voice answers!

Alarm bells ring, I have to put in a weeks work before I get paid, but I have gone through this process before and have ALWAYS been paid.

Trust has never been an issue with my freelance writing work.

Please don’t think I am a total ‘nieve numpty’ freelance writing often works this way and I guess I have always been really lucky with the good people of the world I have worked with before.

When your luck runs out

Luck is over rated!

Articles start pouring in and I am writing for at least 6 hours a day! GREAT, I love it and I am finding my groove. I watch the hours rack up!

It gets to Wednesday and I just have a bad feeling, I have woken up in the night since I got the job with a niggling feeling and I know to listen to ‘these’ feelings.

It’s the kind of feeling when you know someone’s watching you, but you cannot figure out where they are.

SO – 20 hours in and a lot of writing, I ask for payment before anymore writing commence forth!

You all know what I am going to say – RIGHT?!

It’s Wednesday night, no payment, communication stops and I have wasted 20 hours on some joker at the end of the skype waves!

I have images of this arse face. I bet it’s some sweaty 14 years old, using my work as his own and getting paid $6/hr in the process…….In the words of that cartoon character ‘why I oughta’…

I do believe in KARMA and I wish them no ill or harm (apart from the skype message I sent saying ‘I am watching you’ – I could not resist).

I now find myself applying for more writing work and we head back to budgeting again!!

It also appears a good week (said with irony) for the other half. He also cannot sleep and ends up playing the leading role of ‘bear with sore head’ for most the week! FUN – NOT!

My anxiety and ANGER from the writing shenanigans also led to my eating disorder deciding it was also time to play – so welcome along to that too.

This is pretty how my brain worked this week!

1. You are an idiot for writing without getting paid after the first article
2. You are going to stab your partner through the foot in his sleep (foot is less painful – right?!)
3. You are fat and weak.

The thoughts are constant for about three days (Don’t worry the foot stabbing thought subsided pretty quickly).


This is also the week we are heading to the USA for a month, I should be excited but all I can think about is all of the above.

Urgh, I want butterflies, I want to start packing and unpacking and then repacking again. I want to worry about where my passport is….

Travel day arrives! The other half wakes like snow white from her perfect slumber, cheerful and totally ‘ignorant’ about the previous few days ‘grump’…

I am so excited about heading back to the UK – for one reason!

We are driving into London to see the Christmas lights, Spain just cannot DO Christmas like the UK. Maybe it’s the warm weather or lack of Christmas TV adverts selling cr*p, but there is something about the UK and christmas.

Back to Thursday! I, however, wake with a headache, tired and still hurting inside and feeling vulnerable from the last few days.

I still need to lick my eating disorder wounds and to be honest stop drinking caffeine….it’s like fuelling an already stoked fire by throwing a sh*tload more coal on it. Once it’s started, its gonna take time to burn off and settle down.

Broken toilets and stolen nuts!

Keep your nuts safe

We get to the airport in Spain! Security is empty and we sail straight through, we have an hour to wait – perfect. We argue a little, I am still feeling p*ssed BUT we have a good discussion and it clears the air.

People start heading towards the plane, we wait all nonchalantly, taking pride in not being ‘one of those’ people who rush on the plane.

Oh, hold on people start coming back and sitting down.

It appears the flight is delayed and for no less than four hours in the end too!

A piece of security tape near the toilets had ‘gone missing’ and the plane could not possibly fly without it. An engineer from 3 hours away was the only one ‘qualified’ enough to apply said tape. Oh, I kid you not….

For our inconvenience, we were given a whopping €4.50 voucher by EASYJET to get some lunch.

There is one cafe in the airport and crisps are €4.00 a bag. They fricken take full advantage of their ‘only cafe’ status and rip the hell out of all the Brits who just cannot wait 2 hours to get to the UK and buy crisps for €0.90 a bag!

Voucher in hand, the other half heads to the cafe first and manages to find something for the exact amount of money.

I happen to get there at the same time as everyone else. The cafe was clearly not expecting 200 passengers to be delayed and zombie on them like something out of The walking Dead.

Having an eating disorder means finding food I want/can/allowed to eat is really hard to find.

I managed to convince myself I could salvage a couple of slices of serrano ham from a baguette and the other half would appreciate the bread.

45 minutes later I make it to the till and at this point, I have also convinced my eating disorder that a handful of almonds is acceptable.

I pop the bag of nuts loosely in my top pocket. My hands are full of baguette and drinks….

In the commotion of the Spanish guy in front complaining that his pizza was cold and me getting more and more annoyed, my eating disorder was really getting stuck in at this point and I wanted to shove his pizza up his….anyway Karma and all that.

In the commotion, I am ashamed to admit I stole the nuts. I got to the table sat down and felt the rustle of the bag…..YES I could have gone back and owned up but there are two reasons I didn’t’.

1. The guy did not speak ANY English. Imagine me trying to explain what happened in pigeon Spanish!!
2. The queue was HUUGGEEEE!

So I ate my nuts and so did the other half. Yes, I did feel guilty but it also felt slightly awesome, being as we had just paid the price of a small mortgage for two slices of ham for me and copious amounts of bread for him….

The other half is convinced I will not be allowed back into Spain – he wishes!

Baby it’s cold outside (well we are in England)

mental illness with humour
Wrong terminal but nice Christmas tree

So me the nut thief and him the eater of stolen goods arrive into London late.

We land in the South terminal and our car hire is in North terminal, no problem we catch the air shuttle and find the car hire desk. Oh, what’s the sign say!? ‘We have been relocated to the South terminal’ says sign….seriously! Back on the air shuttle to the South.

The car picked up and after stopping at the supermarket and finding a lot of reduced food, we feel a little better and end up getting to the airport hotel at 9pm.

We both have a headache, feel a little antsy with each other and way too tired to drive to London and see the Christmas lights. I am gutted but to tired to complain!

How else would we find ourselves with a bed picnic eating 2 pieces of raw salmon (it should have been cooked, but whatever) reduced to £0.79 and 24 peeled quails eggs reduced to £0.49…AND other random things….

You have to try bed picnics – they’re awesome and especially when in a hotel!

It’s go, go gadget time!!

Did I mention the other half decided to order new gadgets that he HAD to take to the USA with him? No problem and said gadgets were due to be collected from a location on Thursday afternoon, leaving us to lay in leisurely on Friday, feeling all refreshed for our 10-hour flight to LA.

After all, we would land at 3pm Thursday in the UK and have plenty of time for doing STUFF!

Don’t forget this is ‘what the f*ck week’!

what the
If only the parcels were for Christmas!

After the four hour delay and by the time we land Thursday night, said parcel collection location was closed!

At 6am Friday morning the alarm blared out loud and proud, our leisurely lay in, turned into a 90-mile round trip to collect parcels and ensure we were back to drop the car off by 11am. VIA phone store to set up phone contract before we leave, which takes as long as car hire!!

A few anxious/crosswords later and a free coffee from Waitrose I find myself outside Heathrow Terminal 3 feeling like sh*t, eating the leftovers of a warm, watery coconut yogurt and him eating warm quails eggs (leftovers from the night before bed picnic).

We check in four hours too early….of course!

It does not end their good people……

I made a declaration to the family before we left ‘We are not sending Christmas cards this year’ BUT could not resist buying three really tacky Spanish Christmas cards for our parents…

I had romantic Christmassy visions of sitting at the hotel desk on Thursday afternoon writing the cards and posting them the next day before we left.

I totally forgot about the cards until we were sat at the airport for 30 minutes before we head to the gate.

I quickly write them, I really have no idea what I put in them (sorry parents) and asked the other half to lick and seal (great expression – HUH?) Only to find the envelopes have no sticky glue at all, we cannot seal the envelopes!

‘I know’ I say to him ‘I need to get stamps from a shop, I will ask if I can borrow some sticky tape’.

‘Sorry says the cash desk assistant, I do not have any tape, but I do have these large yellow stickers with 2 for £5 on them if that would work’ ‘YEP I say’, ‘I will take the stickers’.

So I stick the envelopes with the large yellow stickers and head to the ONLY postbox in the terminal.

Now we are in an airport so of course the postbox is smaller and so is the gap you feed through the letters.

I chose to buy cards that sang an awful Spanish ‘merry Christmas’ to the fortunate (?) person who opens it up.

This, however, meant the cards were thicker than normal….I squeezed, pushed and chipped a nail getting the cards into the postbox…..will the cards work once opened, NO?

I literally broke every part in that stupid mechanical music box in the card….so now they are even worse! They are tacky Spanish Christmas cards that do not work and are stuck down with a large yellow 2 for £5 sticker!!

There is a silver lining!

FREE coffee

The other half declares he has a voucher for a coffee shop. It’s a buy one Christmas drink and get one free voucher. Now I do not drink anything with fake, nasty cr*p, so the other half is going to get two free drinks – which is awesome and I am excited for him, sadly.

I head to the coffee shop, voucher in hand. ‘Yes, of course, you can use the voucher here madam’ – YAY. I hate the vouchers you can only use in three shops in the whole country….

The server asks me what flavours and I choose him Salted Caramel and Spiced Orange, ‘Oooh server says ‘I bet yours is the spiced orange flavour’ NOPE I say defiantly, ‘I have an eating disorder that stops me from eating and drinking anything remotely tasty, so a drink laden with sugar, cream, and god knows what else ain’t passing these lips’ ‘Oh she says – well how about I throw in a filter coffee for free so you have something to drink’

My jaw dropped – After the last few days, this really awesome gesture made my day and I walked away with three drinks and felt like Karma had given me something….in the end, it gave me heartburn as drinking a large coffee on an empty stomach is not a great idea, but whatever!

All of these things are superficial compared to what other people would have gone through this week, but for me, these are all catalysts to anxiety and fuelling my eating disorder, so if I write about them with humour and even make other people laugh and especially those who need to laugh, then it’s a bonus!

Our road trip through the USA starts today, so let’s see what else life is going to throw at us…..stay tuned!

Number of times I said ‘What the f*ck’ – 22
Number of times I laughed at situation – Not enough
Number of times I sent a weird skype message to the 14-year old who scammed me? – 1 (probably more to follow)
Number of times I said ‘I love you’ to him – Not enough
Number of times my eating disorder won? – Too many

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