Breaking the weekend rules....

I am savouring the best part of my weekend breaking. I'm home! I have seen my cats, my dogs, they're ok, I'm not sure I was actually missed, but I have to take the role of the selfless mum. I'd rather suffer myself than have my kids suffer. It's how the world goes, and I'm none the wiser. I keep glancing at my bed wistfully, my lovely lovely bed. I have missed it. My topsy turvy kitchen, my kitchen table which sometimes is hidden because it's been hit by a clutter bomb. I've missed all of those. But I just have 24 more hours to go, I guess I can make it back there and here safely. I have not been kept awake by bonkers, although someone at the hotel seems to have unbelievable bad manners, he is what I'd call a burper and a constant farter, and no, he doesn't have the room all to himself. There is a lady in there who is putting up with the constant sound and stinky battering. I knew about sound abuse, I didn't know there could be women out there putting up with smelly abuse. How most undignified. I wonder what hotel staff has to go through, the tales they might tale but don't because it's probably written in small print somewhere in their contract not to. Of course the tales would be best sellers but then also of course hotel owners do not want their staff getting rich at their own expense. I would never ever consider working in a hotel. It is stifling, suffocating, and why on earth have gigantic glass panes been fitted never to be opened? And who was the flipping spoilsport who decided who build a smokefree hotel anyway? Then he's complaining about not having enough rooms booked? Isn't it obvious? We smokers are the ones who set the economy running. We're the never stingy part of the population. If we weren't we wouldn't be blowing almost €4 on a pack. For some of us that becomes €8, and for some of us, me included, that's a €12 a day. We spend and never worry about tomorrow. That is what makes a smoker, otherwise we would be terrified of all the illnesses connected to smoking. But we don't think, we go the the moment, the nicotine moment. So, would I ever take my business to a smoke-free hotel? Yes, but only if it was a smoke free hotel where smoking was allowed. Of course I'll still smoke in my room, I don't care about the smoke detector, the sprinkler, it's my room, paid for and I'll do whatever I like in there. I figure, if I can walk about naked (and that's so sinful) then I can have a smoke (less sinful innit?). And if someone is allowed to burp maliciously at all hours, fart invadingly at all hours, then I can smoke. Even if I can't, I will still smoke. It's my party and I'll cry if I want to, and it's my room and I'll smoke if I want to. Yes yes yes dirthy filthy habit. But there's a dirtier one allowed in hotelrooms. I could get a whore in there and play with him/her to my heart's content. Isn't that dirtier than a quick smoke? I will not go into moral issues here, because my morality doesn't necessarily please everybody. But, whoredom could leave rubbers, crabs, lice. Smoking leaves just a stale smell and ashes. What would you rather have?

Room with a view

Here I am weekend-breaking at almost 2 in the morning doing exactly what the conjoined word says, I'm breaking the weekend because of course I cannot sleep. I saw this coming, me in unfamiliar surroundings, without the familiar cats. I wonder how they're doing. They have a queen sized bed all to themselves tonight. I hope they won't miss me too much, well at least not as much as I am missing them. I cannot complain about this hotel. It really is a 5 * stretched to a 7*. Lovely bedroom overlooking a beautiful secluded marina. I could stay here and write for ages, with a view so beautiful. I was wrong about the bath, I do have a bath to fit my royal size. So it seems I cannot find anything to complain about but complain I will. I still prefer my bed with all the cats, I still prefer my bath, I still prefer my home to this castle-looking building. Although once again, this hotel has another bonus, it is big friendly, meaning I can sit in all the chairs, armchairs, everywhere I please. I cannot hear people bonking themselves silly, but I can hear blaring music coming from perhaps a gay party? It's an I will survive, it's raining men, keep your hat on. As for me... I'm not keeping my hat on and will try to sleep somehow.