I don’t want to go

This might be my most first-world problem yet: I don’t want to drink free cocktails tonight.

But I am crap at turning down invitations when I don’t have a good excuse.

I am also hopeless at lying and “I don’t feel like it” seems a bit rude.

I don’t know how the influencers do it every night.

I am exhausted by the endless stream of events.

I can’t wait for them all to go on hiatus.

This generally happens in early December and then things won’t boot up again until mid-February.

Spring, on the other hand, is peak PR time for the drinks industry and I am flagging.

Tonight’s invitation is to Maybe Sammy, which is ranked No.26 on the World’s 50 Best Bars list. It’s a fabulous spot, but I am struggling with the concept of getting on a bus after work and heading into town to socialise.

I feel a bit like the 10th Doctor Who when he was regenerating …

I am middle aged and I am tired.

I was so wired from all the social interaction at the Suntory function on Tuesday night that I barely slept, then I dragged myself out of bed on Wednesday morning, walked the dogs, showered, put on some lippie and headed to the office.

It was a mad scramble to get home after work to start the lasagne mince simmering before meeting with one of the longest-standing owners in my apartment block to discuss next steps with our overgrown garden.

I seriously feel like sending the gardeners a few images following their next visit of all the weeds and long tufts of grass that remain everywhere, with the suggestion they share them on their Facebook page as “after” examples of their work.

If they don’t want to share them, then where’s the pride?

And if we’re not paying them enough to put in the hours to do the job properly, say something!

As my neighbour and I examined the falling standards I asked her something that has been bugging me for ages: why does it look like someone has buried a woolly mammoth in our front yard?

There is a big, grassy hump in the middle of the lawn. I’m heading downstairs now with the dogs to take a pic to insert in here … stand by … ok here you go …

It doesn’t really capture the humpy weirdness of it, sorry.

She speculated that mounds were quite fashionable in garden design in the 70s.

Thank heavens that trend died off.

After our meeting, I bolted back upstairs to assemble my lasagne and frantically threw together a few drinks articles for this morning’s newsletter.

Coriander haters will not be pleased to hear it’s among the flavour trends for drinks in 2025.

Then I made my weary way to bed.

Oh, how I yearn to chill out tonight. But I hate letting people down. So you can expect another parade of cocktail pics in tomorrow’s post. Apologies in advance, as I know my gallivanting is not your favourite blog topic.

Song of the day: Tom Petty “Don’t come around here no more”