Bank of Mum and Dad

The bank gets 8 holidays per year and thank goodness they let us enjoy them too. Four day working weeks are what dreams are made of. However when you are single and an only child your only source of 'social income' comes in the form of your parents. Your friends are mostly married and mostly parents so the option of Sunday night bank holiday drinking has been taken hostage by husbands and babies. So with that in mind here's how to survive a 3 day weekend when your 70 year old mother and 65 year old father are the only company you can find:

1. Book a table for dinner on Saturday night. This is because you haven't really eaten a proper dinner in at least a few days. A meal deal from Sainsbury's apparently doesn't constitute dinner. Nor does marmite on toast, a cup of soup or micro chips. Plus the lady who gave birth to you will pay.

2. When you enter any establishment that serves food or drink don’t expect to be sitting in the first seat you are shown to. Your Mum doesn’t like children or animals or people for that matter and sitting near any of these species will bring her out in hives. Screaming children in particular need not apply. You’ll find yourself sitting in at least 3 seats until the right one is found. It’s like playing a game of musical chairs that you didn’t even want to play.

3. Make sure you schedule wine into the weekend. This is a must for mother daughter survival. You’ll need a large glass to deal with point 2.

4. Prepare yourself to have to sleep on a blow up 'ready bed' on the floor whilst your Mum happily sleeps on your memory foam mattress.

5. Try to fall asleep as soon as you can so you miss listening to the Olympic snoring that comes from said mattress.

6. Try not to get too stressed when your Mum is ready a good hour and half before you need to leave the house. 6am is always the time suggested to leave even if the occasion starts at 8pm and is walking distance from your flat.

7. Never believe your Mum when she says ‘I’m only going to have one Bloody Mary today’. The women came directly from Irish parents, she’s drinking more than one.

8. When you suggest watching the FA club final in the pub you live above don’t underestimate your mother’s pulling techniques. Not one but two men will ask her to dance. You will probably be asked to leave.

9. When your Dad decides he is now ready to embrace the world of computers you will trek out to Berkshire with an old laptop to teach him the basics of Excel. He’ll think he’s Bill Gates. You’ll know he isn’t but you’ll admire his desirability to leave Victorian Berkshire to embrace a new life in the 21^st century one penny farthing at time.

10. When bank holiday Monday comes to its close you’ll feel exhaustion like you’ve never felt before. Between the musical chairs and the Excel spreadsheet listing Dad’s classical CD’s (we decided Mozart needed its own tab) you literally can’t wait for Made in Chelsea to rot your brain.

White M&S mules to kick off the week

Guess what? The next bank holiday weekend will also be owned by my family. Someone get me a husband and fast.

Expiry Dates

How to date in London when you've already dated half of London.

I'm a regular on Tinder, Happn, Bumble etc, if they were pubs I would be the old man sat at the bar. I'm so regular that at times I have forgotten I've already met Daniel, 35 on Tinder and am now arranging a date with him via Happn. He must have forgotten too or he's just being mysterious.

These are the rules I live by when dating in the capital (many of them have been born from bad experiences) read on to find out why:

1. Always remember that you are disposable. Social media dating is just what is says on the tin 'I'm social and I'm dating. When you go to the ladies he's also gone to the ladies. He's swiping or chatting whilst you're checking your face in the mirror. This is probably the most important point to live by. DO NOT FORGET THIS.
2. Do not go on a date with expectations. Expectations equal disappointment. Go with your face on, best dress and heels and see what happens. Don't expect to see him again because you probably won't (even if you have had a great time). Refer back to point 1.
3. Don't always assume that he's 100% single. His ex-girlfriend might turn up on the date. She might beg him to get back together with whilst revealing that they have two children together. He then might leave with her whilst you are still sat there speechless and a tenner down (you bought the drinks and your change wasn't monetary). You'll then tell your Mum what happened who will laugh like a drain and still does two years later when you regale the story to married folk.
4. You become single girl dating fodder like you're a jester brought in to entertain the upper class at a Victorian London society party.
5. You consider hiring a manager to get you more of the above gigs. Could be some serious money there.
6. Seriously consider taking out life insurance to protect your assets (vintage dresses and shoes need only apply) in the case that you might get eaten by cats. You don't even like cats (or any animals, except horses - they are super animals) but being single at 34 leaves you vulnerable to hungry cats.
7. Still hope that you'll meet someone the 'old fashioned way' in a bar, so much so that every single time you go out to a bar your game is on.
8. When you do meet a potential date in the aforementioned way and he asks for out for a drink don't expect it to actually happen. Refer to point 2.
9. Don't accept blind date options from friends. What your friend thinks you like is no way near what you actually like. Some people like sushi, I'm not one of those people.
10. Always look up when walking the streets of London, you're next Pinot Grigio could be bought by that hot man in a suit that just walked past you.
11. Quickly remember that this is London an no one talks any more through vocal words so you immediately get on Happn to see if he's on it too so you can communicate for exactly 5 days via text before agreeing a date to meet.
12. Then go through points 1-12 leaving out 3 (you hope and pray that never happens to you again).
13. Always, always have hope that Mr Right isn't too far away even if you do protest you love being single and it's the greatest thing ever ever ever. Honestly it's great, really great. I learnt my doth protesting from Lady Macbeth.
14. In reality you know that your perfect boyfriend is in fact called Gym and you've been in a fairly good relationship for 3 years, even if you have to pay him £53 per month.

Fingers and toes crossed people.

Here's the closest I'll be to wearing white this year...

Career Break-Up Rules

The rules to follow when you break up with your career:

1. Join an temping agency for 'temporary temping work' and then realise after 8 months that your expected temporary working plan has expired and you are now in fact a long-term temp.
2. Sign-on. This involves going into an actual real life Job Centre. Try not to cry when you are sat with your new 'Job Coach' who talks you through your allowed benefits, instead use the experience to go home and sign up to point 1.
3. Apply for any job that has a heart beat and then get over excited when you get a call from a recruitment consultant you tells you about a job that involves buying bristles for hair brushes which is approximately 40 miles from your house (still commutable if you don't mind getting 1 bus, 2 tubes and an overland train all for the same price as 1 months rent).
4. Go for a boozy lunch with your other friends who have also had a career break-up to celebrate the above point then realise half-way through your Pinot Gorgio that you've actually never wanted to buy bristles for hair brushes and travelling over an hour and half for a job that isn't worth the pittance of the salary they would offer is not actually your dream job.
5. Go back to home and watch 'Escape to The Country' or if late enough 'The Chase' after having a few pinots and eating a club sandwich and chips with said friends (you can't actually afford any of these items)
6. Skip the gym that day.
7. Hope that tomorrow you will get a call for an interview/job/temping role/Euromillions win/rich potential husband.
8. Fall asleep that evening vowing that you WILL get up at 7am for hot yoga followed by interval running training on the gym and then go to the library to apply for jobs and start writing the book you promised your Mum you would start 3 weeks ago.
9. The next morning wake up at 8am watch Good Morning Britain and Lorraine instead of going to the gym.
10. Vow to go to the lunchtime spin class.
11. Repeat numbers 1-8 (leaving out 2).
12. Remember to always wear fabulous shoes and vintage dresses (when not at the gym) like you've had a permanent job your whole life.
13. Go on holiday with your Mum.
14. Get an on-going temporary contract. Get excited about starting it. Realise that it's probably the most boring job in the whole world but have to preserver with it because the hen party to Marbella you're going on won't pay for itself.
15. Start writing again in the hope it'll earn you a triple salary career by Christmas and a town house in Islington.
16. Start imagining Kiera Knightley playing the part of me in the film version of my book.
17. Repeat number 3 over and over and over again.
18. Change careers.

The end.

P.S. It's Metallic Monday