Home sick

It's not unusual for me to spend nights away from home with work, but I hate it when those nights come at the weekend. Weekends are family time.

I'm sitting in a hotel room, like all other hotel rooms in the UK, but somewhere in Scotland a flight away from home. I've got a black-tie do tonight and I've just scoffed three shortbread in a home-sick strop. The strop was induced by a series of incidents:

1) being stupid enough to accidentally throw my moisturiser in my bag this morning, meaning I had to check it in

2) not being told this evening's event is themed, until it's too late

3) not being told by my team that the we are staying in a different hotel to the event venue... I arrived at the venue, then had to get another taxi to the hotel

4) opening my bag to find an exploded nail polish... What colour? Bright pink of course! Did I bring nail polish remover? Don't be silly!

So, in a sulk, I will lie in my bed, drink my tea and read my book fir half an hour before i start getting ready.

Rant over. I promise to be cheerful tomorrow and write about something interesting!