So it’s press day today for the charity I volunteer for and we were on strict instructions to look smart and presentable.

I haven’t been sleeping well so took a sleep aid last night and woke up groggy to the foster puppy having poopageddon all over the floor.
You try and tread carefully around it only to slip over a puddle of pee and land in shit up To my eyeballs (literally my eyeball nearly had poop in it).
You desperately need the toilet (like the old woman that You are) so you try and lift your poop and pee covered body to open the dog gate to get out of the room. But the dog gate won’t open as your hands are covered in diarrhea and puppy pee, so you decide to try and climb over the gate.
As you try and get the second leg over the gate, the puppy decides to start licking your toes and you fall into another heap on the floor with one shit covered foot resting nonchalantly on top of the gate.
This is about where you weigh up as to if it is
Better to just pee yourself, get up and squat on a pee pad or continue the noble fight to the bathroom.
Guess what I did?

TINDER TIME #tindertime
Date 2 (but first real date)
The Italian

Well wow guys. First “date” I have been on in years that actually felt like a date.

So it’s meeting 2 with the Italian and after really fucking up being late last time, I decided to be early this time!!! They say the road to hell is paved with good intention right?
Well, I decided to wear my “pizza dress” (you know the one with the mushroom Incident last week?) because it’s since proven pretty successful with pizza (once I learnt to maneuver past the boobs!!).
So, I get into the Uber with plenty of time to spare and almost everything that could go wrong on the journey, went wrong. Bridges were closed. Roads were closed. The driver ran out of petrol. So the entire time, I am messaging him with timing updates and he’s so unbelievably Italian and is super chill and says “in my country, up to 30 minutes is not considered late”. so I’m now officially in love with him that he can tolerate my tardiness twice in a row.
So while in the taxi, previous tinder date (who is now my friend), starts messaging me and I tell him that I am schlepping to North London to have pizza!!!. This is a big deal for me, as I don’t like leaving central london at all. So I stupidly let out a flippant thought saying I hope it’s better than the trip to the supermarket for dessert date. And the bastard replies saying that we are probably going to Dominoes!!!! Like why would be put that thought in my head? Why? Now all I can think about is if I need to get a half and half or spring for a meal deal!!!

I have been sat in this uber for over an hour on a journey that promised to be 25 minutes!!! I feel like I have sat here so long, that I have witnessed world war 3, my great grand children have just celebrated their 100th birthday, and the iPhone 89 has just been released !!!!! It just keeps going on and on and on. I’m scared to blink in case i open my eyes to a similar scene to Will Smith in “I Am Legend”
Uber lies and false promises. Fake news Uber. Fake news.
So I rock up to restaurant and I’m not just late for an English person, but also now late for an Italian (I’m still early for a Trinidadian so don’t panic too much!).

So he’s made an effort also and looks very sweet. Sadly, the restaurant is busy so we have to go to a local pub and have a drink until a table is ready. Unfortunately, it’s the middle of a football match and I hate one of the teams with a passion. So, I buy us a pint each (yes I got cider darlings), and we awkwardly perch on the edge of the bar.

Conversation is slow. And we end up chatting about nearly all the same topics as the last time we met. I secretly plot an escape plan (which may or may not have involved setting fire to things!). However, just as I was trying to find a box of matches at the bar, we got the call that our table was ready.
Thank goodness. Pizza will save the convo.

The pizza was good but not the best I had ever tried. It reminded him of Home and with every bite, he became more and more nostalgic. And with every swig of wine, the conversation flowed better and better.

He was remarkably funny and so smart and talented. He did however eat his pizza with a knife and fork which freaked me out.

I gave him a slice of my pizza. Y’all know that’s a big deal for me!!! We may as well be married now!!!

This was a good date and felt “datey” as he gently touched my fingers with his until they were intwined.

And you try not to get excited and think about the future. You really do. But all I could think about was prosecco picnics in the park and little pizza babies running through fields chasing pepperoni butterflies.

We then went on and got more drinks in a rather random little bar in North London and he planned our next pizza date. In fact, he had an entire list of places we are going to….. all pizzerias (he had done his research on me!!). and he’s going to cook me pasta (like a proper Italian). Although he said “potato pasta sauce” which I am Hoping is just a translation issue rather than an actual dish!!! (Potatoes and pasta cooked together and made into a sauce)

And it all sounds lovely apart from he hates dogs (so it clear won’t work out), and all I can think about is how much I need to pee and get out of these spanx!!! Why must my clothes torture me so?

So this is my current face in an uber.

So my uber pulls up and the driver gets out the car and holds the door open for me. And being me, I’m like “oh, hey Kim. Looking good”. He then asks if he should put the air conditioning on. Yup, I’m legit going to marry this guy.
It was all going so well until he asks “how far along I am!!”.
Me “how far along? Like to the theatre?”
Him “no in your pregnancy!”
Me “ohhhhhhh”

So I have typical fat girl problems and often get asked how far along I am in my pregnancy when people spot my bagel belly.

So instead of being a normal person and saying “nah bitch, I’m just fat”, I do my usual thing and just lie saying I am pregnant, and start making up shit about scans and sexes and all this other stuff. See friends with children, i do Kinda listen to what you’re saying without even realizing.

He then says he remembers me from a previous uber trip and how is that last child doing?
Ffs, like the only uber driver who has ever remembered me also remembers my last fake pregnancy.

So now I’m stuck in an uber having an entire conversation about how baby Timmy is really looking forward to having a baby brother. His name will probably be Tommy (I don’t know where that came from guys. I’m disappointed in myself also!!! ).

So I’m now expecting another imaginary child who I already have enrolled in the best pre school in the borough!!!!!

All this for some air conditioning

Yes dear reader. You read that correctly. I’ll give you a moment to get back off the ground.
Before I go on, I must add that it was accidental (just in case you were worried about body snatching or similar!!!).

So today was shit (see previous post), so I wanted to go for a swim this morning. Walked my pretty ass to the sports Centre this morning swiped my card and the fuckers wouldn’t let me in. Turned out that before 12, it’s for over 60’s only!!! Like what the hell? Surely that’s age discrimination?
So I tried to sweet talk myself into the pool and nobody would believe that I was over 60…. I don’t understand why!!
So I was like, fine….. I’ll use the gym. They wouldn’t let me into the gym as my membership had accidentally expired. So I’m all like, “ummm, no it hasn’t”, and they are all like “yes it has”, and I’m like “get me a manager!!”, and they are all like “ok”.
So anyway, we kinda, sorta have a resolution but I have to go home and look at my statements as to when I last paid.
I walked home and just lost the will to live (or go back to the gym), and watched Netflix.
I then ate all the food in my house and hugged dogs.

So after a few hours, Chaplin was giving me evils and as he wouldn’t walk himself, I decided to be a responsible dog owner and take the big man out.

We went on our usual walk along the river Thames. For some reason today, Chaplin was filled with mischief and he just kept running about like a maniac. I took him to his beach and he just refused to run around at all. It was annoyingly peak tourist time/ peak drunk businessmen along the river time and I just looked like a total twat standing on the beach with a dog who refused to move. So to entice Chaplin to move, I decided to have a little run along the beach to get him moving. This was my first mistake.
Running on the beach with a dog is fun, drunk businessmen cheering us on was mortifying, tourists taking our picture was embarrassing however, Chaplin loved it.
The problem with sandy beaches is the sand. So once we were done, I needed to take my cheap ass fake Converse trainers off and get the sand out. Of course I wasn’t wearing any socks… like why would I?
So Chaplin was still expecting a walk, so we started off along the Thames again. Checking out the buskers, saying hi to children (Chaplin, not me), and swearing at runners (mostly me, but a little bit Chaplin) who were reenacting the psychological warfare from “Apocalypse Now” with their loud obnoxious music.

We just kept walking, and walking, and walking until 2 hours had gone by, and I was pretty sure we weren’t in London anymore.
My feet were killing me (and still sandy), and I had been playing the same song on repeat continuously that I was beginning to question my sanity.

So we sat on a bench and watched the sun set, and got a fucking taxi home

So I always used to say that Netflix was like my boyfriend. I tried really hard to impress him in the beginning and then as we gradually became more comfortable with each other, he would sometimes suggest amazing things for me to see or do and vice versa. We got along together and had fun. He would forgive my “phase” of liking all dance movies; “step up”, “step up 2 the streets”, and “dirty dancing two”, and would cheekily suggest any Hannah montana movie as if it was a response to me wanting to watch “clueless”!!!!! . Not the same thing!!!!!!!!

It ended badly with me seeing more of another man (Hulu) and Netflix just not understanding the person i had become and needed to be!!!!

It has been three years since we parted and it felt like it was about time that I could say hi to him at the drinks fountain at the gym.
So as we started on my tablet he was looking good, the curves I remembered, I was sweating and mildly aroused as I entered the keys and passwords to let me in to him. In to the world I remember that we shared together, where I could see that he had singlehandedly gathered dust boxes from around the world to make sure I see my obscure movies which bring me such joy. My memories
The “welcome back to netflix Kimberly” sign sent electricity down to my special “50 shades of grey place” and I knew without a doubt that everything between us is all forgiven and that it was going to be better than before. My memories. No. Our memories.

What I didn’t know during these moments of ecstasy was that he had been screwing with me. I didn’t know he had played a long game (in fact I didn’t know they existed) but boy did he get me. All those please come back to the world of Netflix had meant nothing!
He remembered me all right but had deleted the memories we had ever shared. All the saved and organized films and tv show have been removed and I am left staring at libraries of nothing offering only the option to choose your first film /tv series!!!!

But what if I get it wrong?
Is this the real test?