Some of the many ways in which I am a total fricking genius

I'm in Spain right now, at my parents'. I flew out Saturday afternoon and, mere minutes out of the flat, I thought 'balls, I've left all my plastic in my other purse. I've only got £20 in cash on me and Mum wanted me to pick up some stuff at the airport and now I can't withdraw any more cash to buy it with. Oh well, I'll just put it on my debit card'.

I swear, the flaw in this plan didn't occur to me until I was halfway between London Bridge and Gatwick.

I'm mainly over here for the Caldero, the celebration of local independence where everyone heads to the beach, erects big tents and gets drunk. The fiesta high point was yesterday and we'd had a few beers at one of the tents when we bumped into some friends of my parents. We spent a couple more hours knocking back cañas in beachfront bars, then came home. I'd been wearing flip flops all day and I thought I could feel a blister of some kind.

So. I rested my hand on a chairback and lifted my foot. The chair overbalanced and slipped on the tiled floor, toppling over backwards. I toppled over with it but because I am longer than the chair, I came to rest with my head on the edge of the bedside table. Which kind of hurt. Bit winded, I propped myself up against the bed and felt the back of my head for the inevitable bump. Hand felt a bit wet. Turning round, I saw the large bloodstain on the duvet cover and my hand covered in red. Oops… It took nearly an hour to stop all the bleeding. Large hanks of my hair are still a bit crusty even now, but I don't want to wash my hair yet in case I dislodge some of the young, and interesting, scabs that have formed.

I am so fucking clever I scare myself.


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