Sickness Trip

I went on my first business trip this week. My company organises and hosts the Coach Tourism Awards, as exciting as they sound, so a bunch of us went off to Stratford (that's Stratford-upon-Avon Stratford and not shitty East London Stratford) and my boss was sweet enough to invite me along.

We set off first thing on Thursday morning, stopped at Tesco and McDonald's on the way and ate fuckloads, then got to the hotel motel Holiday Inn and worked a fairly boring afternoon. It was boring. My job was to stand in the hallway and ask anyone looking a bit lost if they needed our workshop, then direct them there, but someone said I looked bored and then someone else asked if I was there for 'decorative purposes'. Cheers, luv.

At six o'clock I was allowed to change into my LPD (little purple dress) ready for the awards, and a bunch of us sat in the garden drinking the free wine, stuffing canapés in our faces (ok, that was mainly me) and chatting. It really was pleasant. The weather was lovely, and with one glass of cheap plonk inside me I can talk to anyone. Shame I didn't stop at one.

I don't remember much of the awards themselves. Anyone know Bob Mills? A famous comedian apparently. I've heard of him, but couldn't tell you what he's done. Anyway, he sat next to me and I charmed the pants off him. According to my colleague anyway, who gushes a bit once he's had a couple. I asked Bob if I could have his autograph and he said, 'No. Not unless you can name something I've done.' What a legend. I never did get that autograph.

I felt definitely worse for wear by the end of the awards, so I didn't hang around long before going to my hotel room. I rang Jiff then got ready for bed and slept for a bit. My colleague Lauren woke me up when she came to bed a couple of hours later, which was when I got up to throw up.

I thought I'd feel better then, but no, I woke up several times in the night to throw up. After the third time, when there was naught left to spew but a tasty mix of bile and stomach acid, it dawned on me that I'd caught the bug my sister had been ill with earlier that week and I wasn't just drunk. Took me long enough.

It was a rough night. I missed Jiff and also my mum. I was all alone in a town far from home and Lauren was snoring. I had to wake up stupidly early so we could all be back in the office by 10, but I got up at six to be sick anyway so I didn't bother going back to bed after that. I threw up in the car on the way back, which was when my workmates conceded that I had to be genuinely ill and not just hungover/skiving. Bless them.

Jiff fetched me from my office and took me to his. He put me in bed and let me sleep all day. When I woke up in the late afternoon and didn't feel sick anymore, he made me some soup. He ran me a bath in the evening, then held me until I went to sleep. Don't mean to gush, but he's awesome.