So Sunday the 15th of March turned me 25. Sadly, I spent the day feeling particularly fragile as a result of having a couple too many celebratory Shandy’s the night before. Having a circle of friends who thoroughly enjoy venturing out for a long night of craft beers and dancing to nostalgic classics like you’re Gene Kelly takes its toll when there’s a birthday to celebrate. Either way, it doesn’t stop you from being showered with party food and birthday cake, both of which I inevitably enjoyed.
“Errrrmagherrrd, beeearrrnz errrn turrrst!”
Don’t worry, I’m not talking about the typical three-minute dinner we all endure a love-hate relationship with. I’m manning a different ship today. Think of it as a culinary prank on someone who’s expecting a medium to nice meal, maybe more nice than medium, but I’ll let you be the judge of that. [“What are we having for dinner tonight?” – “Oh, beans on toast…”] *smug face*
It’s Sunday again, a day which single handedly justifies spending the duration in your pyjamas… and I’m not judging you for it, it’s totally acceptable. It’s also a day where brunch is most relevant, usually in hope to cure those post-Saturday night hangovers (chemically this never works, but we like to think so…) – Either way, it’s probably about time you switched Netflix off, put the kettle on and made some brunch. (or stay in bed, that’s fine too…)