Two weeks today I am going on holiday to Dominican Republic.
As some of you may know, this is the first foreign holiday that S and I have been on just the two of us, we've always been with friends previously or in the UK, for example the infamous holiday to London which we went on one week before I moved there.
On this note I broached the subject of what on earth we were going to do, just the two of us, for 10 days in an all inclusive resort.
"Play 'Ring of Fire'!" was the answer I got.
Yes, that's right people. My boyfriend of five years wants to play a drinking game on our first alone holiday. A drinking game where you have to tell deep, dark truths before downing a concoction of left over alcohol.
I feel so special.
So then we come to the organising of all the arrangements. It is all going swimmingly - passports are located and, more importantly, in date, sun lotion is bought, currency ordered.
And then I get a call from my doctor's surgery.
They have heard that I am going to Dominican Republic (from where?! I mean, I know I am a truly exciting person but gossip at the doctor's about me? Really?), they are concerned that I haven't got my jabs yet.
I have several long conversations with the incredibly dim nurse in which we establish that I only need a Hepatitis A booster. What about Malaria? she asks. I have heard it's nasty. I say. This is NOT appreciated.
So now I have to take tablets of which the common side effects include: severe itching, hallucinations, blurred vision, depression, sickness and heart palpitations. Oh and if I take more than one in a 48 hour period then I die within two and a half hours.
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