leaving on a jet plane

to spain, to throw a donkey off a tower. don't you hate people who begin diary entries or blog musings with that old to... nonsense.
anyway, was in Spain last week, where, among other things I spent 1 hour and 20 minutes in the bank trying to set up internet banking so we can monitor from here how much money is bleeding out of the account we have over there (long story). so, 1 hour and 20 minutes of my life (and my one beach holiday!) spent in the bank. during these 80 minutes a great American by the name of Blase helped me with my internet-pains while his colleague – a native female - dealt with one customer face to face, while taking phone calls from another. the customers were not related but by the time he left, the guy who had come into the bank new everything about the guy who kept phoning (so did i, along with everyone else in the branch). 'they keep trying to take money for electricity but he's broke', we were informed after one call. 'him again. now they want money for water. i don't know what he does up there...'
anyway, 1 hour and 20 minutes getting my internet sorted out. now back in Blighty. just tried to get onto the internet and guess what – no funciona! matame con una pluma. don't you just love la technologia?
before going on my hols i'd treated myself to a 'fantasy tan'. this involved standing in a dingy windowless room in a pair of paper pants while a lovely young girl sprayed me with a sticky liquid which i was told would develop into a fantastic glow several hours later. she was right – by the time i got on the plane the next morning i looked like i'd already been away. which was a good job as i have now joined the Joan Collinses of the world and. do. not. suntan. my. face. (i've spent the last 3 years of my life trying to rid my face of the effects of the 20 previous ones i spent ruining it with too much uva).
so, i arrive on holiday all brown, sunkissed and slinky (lots of pre holiday running).
treating myself to a week of no exercise however, along with an endless diet of chips, G&Ts, wine, tortilla, hamburgers and endless bags of crisps mean that as my tan faded my wobblier bits got wobblier than they have been for an age.
so, i go away tall and tan and thin and lovely... and i come back white and flabby! i feel like i've had a makeover in reverse, or a make under!
needless to say, this week will be spent chained to the treadmill......