Ellie and I were feeling the second year blues – so much work, so little time and sometimes it’s all a bit overwhelming. Of course, the only thing to improve this morning was going out for breakfast.
We drove to Franky and Benny’s, ordered a full English and the food arrived. Bliss.
Then I cut into my sausage. I look and think, that’s a funny looking herb… it almost looks like, well it almost looks like a snail.
Then I look closer, there is a snail in this sausage.
I show Ellie and ask what does that look like to you?
Hoping that I am in fact wrong. But no she said also, a snail. And I freak out.
THERE IS A SNAIL IN MY SAUSAGE. A SNAIL.
Then pure delirium and sickness set in and I felt that I may be traumatised for life. I looked around to see families eating breakfast, little children unsuspectedly tucking into their snail sausages.
I should have screamed EVERYONE PUT THE SAUSAGES DOWN, THERE WAS A SNAIL IN MY SAUSAGE.
Instead I laugh at how ridiculous my life has become, and try not to vomit.
My day didn’t improve much as I went home and drank a Diet Coke from my cupboard that went out in September 2016 (four months ago)
So I thought is this what rock bottom looks like?
Is there no relief from feeling blue?
You can’t even enjoy a cooked breakfast as there’s then a snail in your sausage.
It was one of those moments where you re-evaluate your life, you think, hey life isn’t so bad because I could have EATEN that snail in my sausage.
Alas the moral of this true and bizarre story is: always check your sausage. Don’t ever eat at Franky and Benny’s, and don’t ever come near me with a snail again.