Sorry, but this isn’t going to be a ripsnorter of a post.

This is more a long, sad status update.

I’m currently unable to put together anything that could be described as a coherent piece because I’ve just come back from a weekend in Toowoomba for my sister’s engagement party.

Aaaaaand I have no voice.

I usually enjoy a bit of husk, as it makes my renditions of Total Eclipse of the Heart much, much sultrier. But this is a bit much.

It actually hurts to project my voice. Even when I get some thing resembling word out, it sounds like someone has stood on a cat who gave up on life.

My current condition could have been caused by a bunch of factors. Perhaps I picked up a virus from some sicko on the plane ride. Perhaps the difference in temperatures messed with my regulatory system. Maybe I’ve been cursed by God.

Or perhaps it had something to do with the fact that I was dancing barefoot in puddle of beer/obscenely strong mojito mix/bacterial soup for hours combined with the fact I was screaming the lyrics to The Outback Club until 2am.

Who can really say?

I’m just about to tuck into dinner, which WAS going to be a decadent Thai dish, but this afternoon’s events meant I needed a change of plans.

First off, I came literally within minutes of missing my plane. I thought it left at 4pm, but it turns out it was 3pm. So I rocked up at the airport 26 minutes after boarding commenced and had to sprint to the gate. I nearly vomited.

I couldn’t bear the thought of having to book and pay for a last-minute ticket back to Sydney. That would have sucked. I mean, the only thing worse than buying one plane ticket back to Sydney would be buying two.

Buuuut I made it on the plane.

When I got to the airport, I was drained, hungover and sleepy. So I decided to treat myself to a cab ride home instead of a train/bus combo. And it turns out Hungover Dannielle is no genius. You shouldn’t trust her with transportation logistics, financial strategy or life advice in general.

Because, thanks to an extremely unlucky run of road works, my cab ride cost $86.63

I was extremely unpleasant for the poor cabby, who had to try to understand what I was saying with 27% voice capacity. I was trying to find out how much the tariff was from the airport and how they worked out the fares, but sounded like demon’s voice being run through a squeaky toy filter. And because I was quite cheesed off at spending a decadent steak dinner with garlic bread and a chocolate-based dessert for transportation to get from the stinkin’ airport to my home in stinkin Sydney through all the stinkin’ Sydney traffic, I was quite short with him.

Now that I’ve had a shower, I feel awful. I hope karma sorts him out. Like, he at least deserves a family-sized pie that meets his exact dietary requirements and taste preferences. I don’t know how to make that happen, but hopefully one will just drop out of the sky and into his hands – like that scene from Matilda.

So now, instead of shovelling luxe Asian cuisine into my mouth from a takeaway container, I’m having honey on toast with a cup of tea while watching Grand Designs.

And even though I’d love to have spend that $85 on overpriced food, I have to look at the positives.

I didn’t miss my flight. I had a lovely weekend. And I have personal supply of butter that far exceeds the amount recommended by dietary professionals. It’s going to be ok.