Things that are better in your head than real life!

[Donthugmeimscared]

All day i have been really craving a pizza. You know that sort of craving where you can almost taste it. So I decided to treat the kids and me to one. It was such a let down the taste in my head was so much better than what it actually tasted like.

Does this happen to anyone else?

Chip shop dinners. Always tastes amazing in my head but they are never as good and always make me feel sick recently!

"the smell of real coffee is like the thought of sex. The real thing never lives up to the promise"

I love proper snogging!

Weekends with free time. I think I'll be gliding around doing nice household projects, serene music playing, children playing, coffee, sunshine, everyone companionable and content.

Reality is house is stressfully messy, projects are rushed, incomplete and just end up being more work, coffee goes cold, and I can't hear the music over the DC squabbling.

I had to do the craft homework today with DS'S (left it to last). Total nightmare can I just add teachers do not get paid enough. Know I have helped create will regret on school run I didn't do it myself.

Holidays

I always end up feeling stressed and just want to go home.

Relationships. Mine have been pretty good, but they still cause anxiety and heartache sometimes.

Icing. Forever disappointing.

TV.

Travelling. Being in other places is often wonderful. Getting there? Almost always a complete arse.

Travelling for work. I spent a couple of years doing a lot of travel - about 120 nights away each year. Went to all sorts of wonderful places, and didn't get to see anything! No time to tourist when you're working.

Speaking of which, luxury hotel suites. I've had a couple of surprise upgrades while travelling for work, but they feel like showrooms and tend to be heavy on the marble and light on comfort, big and echoey. Probably better if I'd had someone to share the huge bed and bathroom with!

I'm with Kokapetl on baths, Glasgow on cupcakes, and Persona on fancy sex. Fortunately both of us tend to collapse into giggles together while doing that, so it's not all bad.

Fish and chips, and burgers. Always seem so enticing while you're eating them, then I feel ill for hours after. Probably mostly calorie guilt, but even so. Boke.

Anywhere managed by English Heritage. Yes, I'd love to pay £9 each to wander around some fucking stones in a field. Everything they do should be taken and given over to the National trust.

Sex - always more interesting in my head than in reality.
Coffee - always smells SO good but is meh when I drink it.
Beer - looks so good in the advertisements, but YUK when I drink it.

Facials. 50 quid to basically have some moisturiser rubbed in by someone else. I always think I'm going to come out looking ten years younger. I just come out looking like myself, only a bit greasier of visage for about half an hour.

Christmas Markets
In my imagination I'm floating around with the kids sampling festive delights, browsing casually for gifts. It's cheery and festive.
In reality it's packed, there's just a stream of people and virtually impossible to look at anything and keep an eye on the kids. The festive delights are eye wateringly expensive. I feel like I'm just saying "no we're not buying that"
"Hold my hand and don't touch"
on a constant loop. Then so as not to feel like a misery I spend a ridiculous amount on some usually disappointing artisan fayre and plastic junk I could've got from Poundland and feel ripped off and unfestive.

Champagne. All the imagery and language around it is so enticing- popping the cork, bubbles, fizz, fireworks, celebration! But it always tastes less lovely than I imagine it will - and gives me heartburn.

Anywhere managed by English Heritage. Yes, I'd love to pay £9 each to wander around some fucking stones in a field. Everything they do should be taken and given over to the National trust

I agree. EH are incompetent, have no regard for their properties, for communities or for planning laws - they're merely interested in opening gift shops to flog tat to the gullible. What they tried to do at Cliffords Tower in York really showed them up for the shower of shite that they are.

I'm often tempted to move to a property I see online. In my head it's going to have the cosy lounge with doors onto a garden which seems just the right size and catches the sun all afternoon/evening, nothing needs doing inside, the neighbours will be lovely and parking will be no problem.

I drive round and see something which stops me in my tracks...it never looks as up together as in the photos, can already see money needs spending even on the outside [roof, guttering etc], fencing in a terrible state and lots of it, rusty car in next doors front garden, nets twitching in another, narrow drive, litter, no chance of parking at the weekend, pub a little too near, bus stop across the road etc....that's before I go in.

I go home and appreciate everything about my own house, any faults seem trivial and I settle down happily again.

Coffee and cake in a cafe. I imagine sitting there relaxing for an hour, where the reality is that there's always someone annoying on the next table who Never Stops Talking and the cake isn't as nice as it looks but I still eat it all and feel a bit sick by the end, and the coffee always goes cold too quickly for me to sip it in a relaxed fashion.

Fish and chips, definitely! I think it's the nostalgia factor that leads me to buy them, but they always taste very one-note and not very interesting. Mostly taste of salt and grease.

Burgers and pizza are always great, though.

Any form of takeaway!

I love the idea of not cooking, but it always tastes meh and you feel absolutely crap for 2 days after and drink your own body weight in water to get rid of the raging thirst from all the salt. And you get the shits from all the fat.

But I still keep trying every couple of months having forgotten the above

Picnics. I always imagine an amazing famous five type spread on a glorious English summers day, but the reality is uncomfortably balancing food on a tiny plate on my lap or sitting at a grubby picnic table battling the wind and wasps while the dog shamelessly begs and has to be pushed away and I end up wishing we’d just eaten at home instead.

Barbecues. So much faff and I can burn food without going outside to do it.