I don't feel too good...

Hangover - 1."The disagreeable physical aftereffects of drunkeness, such as a headache or stomach disorder, usually felt several hours after cessation of drinking."
2. "Something remaining behind from a former period or state of affairs." (My favourite description of a hangover).

I firmly believe that being made to work on a hangover should be against the law and I think the above descriptions of a hangover have proved my point. Thank you Dictionary.com.

I'm sure we have all been there, out with friends on a weekday night, promising ourselves that we will be home in bed by midnight and that a couple of alcoholic beveridges would be just the ticket to celebrate the middle of the week, and while you're at it what's a little boogie in a nearby club, it will help you get excited about the weekend. All the while in the back of our mind is the bitter thought of having to work the early shift the next day. The more fun your having, the more this thought is forgotten...oh well.

It was after a night exactly like that that I made quite a spectacle of myself in my position as sales girl extrordinaire in a well known shop on Princes Street. I was due to work the early 7-11 shift and I was fairly proud of myself when I woke up at 8am and (after much screaming and begging for a lift) made it into work by 8.25am. Unfortunately my head didn't take too kindly to being woken so rudely and my stomach soon agreed with it.

Sheepishly I made my apologies and continued with the job of replenishing the shop floor, all the while making surreptitious trips to the bathroom where I would hang over the toilet hoping to be rid of whatever was making my insides squirm. I wish it was that easy. At 8.55am the eight or so sales assistants and I were gathered around the main desk on the ground floor for our one minute meeting (if we were clever we could make them last for 10 minutes). It was at this point that my hangover really kicked in. I grew deathly pale, a cold sweat took hold of my body, I had to think fast because I knew I didn't have much time. I could feel my gorge rising. I thought if I could just make my excuses I could run to the toilet on the childrens floor and then emerge looking refreshed and pristine and ready to start the day anew. I could do this. I couldn't. Instead I threw my hands over my mouth, ran wildly through the group, threw myself down the stairs two at a time and was almost at the toilet when my stomach churned and i ejected the night before's mistake all over the stairs and a hat stand on the childrens floor. I did not emerge looking brand new, I was found by the cleaners frantically cleaning the affected areas on my hands and knees.

For the rest of the day I was asked to work in the stock room, where I wish I could say is where my embarrassment ended. Alas it did not. I went looking for company and continued replenishing stock from the ladies fitting rooms where I could talk with my collegues. Although I felt mildly better, I still felt extremely tired due to lack of sleep and took ever opportunity to rest my eyes (and head and shoulders and legs) on the bench in the disabled fitting room. Needless to say I was caught by the supervisor on a number of occasions, but always managed to avoid serious repercussions by smiling and making a witty joke. That was the longest fours hours of my week.

I wish I could tell you that I had learnt my lesson from that disasterous episode, but you will be pleased to know that just a couple of years later, in a different store, a very similar set of circumstances arose, this time while the shop was open and involving a paper bag behind the cash desk. Handy hint No.1: If you feel the need to throw up please use a plastic bag as paper bags leak!

I'm sure we all have horror hangover tales to tell. Please make me feel better by posting them below or emailing me, go on, what's the worst that can happen?

Jodie x 

The start of something beautiful or a very big mistake?

"Why not? What's the worst that can happen?" It always, without fail, begins with these dreaded words.

My name is Jodie, I have just moved to London from Edinburgh and I lead what I can only describe as a fairly normal life, but, and this is a pretty big BUT, every now and again something seems to go wrong. Not just slightly awry and can be easily fixed but hideously "ARGH what have I done" grotesquely wrong.

If mishaps including giant blue chin bruises, humiliating rejection, boob flashing (not intentional) and major issues with public transport is your kind of thing then Welcome to Misadventures of a Strawberry Blonde.

Please feel free to join me in the land of humiliation and make me feel better by posting your tales of woe or if you're too embarassed email me and I'll change all names and we'll all laugh together.

Seriously though what's the worse that can happen?

Jodie x