It’s nearly the weekend, I have survived my first week at work and I am no longer living on month old dry goods from the back of my festering cupboard. I have also enjoyed the best Valentine’s weekend I’ve had in years.

I had originally planned to go to 50 Shades of Grey with the ladies, get apocalyptically drunk and wake up hating myself next to someone I have no recollection of going home with. Luckily I was saved by the bell. I was offered a job, I was starting in 5 days and my Mum offered me a plane ticket home to Scotland. 

There are many good things about parents, but the best thing is definitely that whole unconditional love thing. That’s what gave me the mandate to stand at the fridge door eating 8 peperamis in succession whilst wailing that I wasn’t ‘where I saw myself at 27.’ It’s also what prompted my Mother to drive me to an out of hours GP so that I could get my crazy mitts on some sleeping pills. They know it isn’t worth riding it out.

It certainly helps that the man above is my Dad. While my coupled up friends were digging out greying suspenders and swearing that they’d never worn them in front of a boy before, I was having breakfast with a man willing to squeeze a size small t shirt over his checked shirt to cheer me up. The greatest joy of my weekend was explaining why Beyonce is so fantastic to a 55 year old man.

I was joined the next day by my brother and my friend Cookie, a man whom we nicknamed Tom Booze after he got so drunk we rolled him under a marquee to get him out of sight. Tom Booze has been shipped off to Aberdeen to spray penguins with oil and had promised to rob a grave to give me some roses. We drank endless red wine, took walks on the beach and listen to Abba Gold on repeat. Apparently my Grandfather chose ‘Thank You for the Music’ as one of his desert island discs. He was a man of taste.

Considering that last Valentine’s Day I received the card below and my ex-boyfriend went to a gig with another girl I would consider this year a triumph. Roll on V day 2016.