Here follows a long-form account of hangingovers day. You do not need to actually read this if you don't want to, its more an exercise in catharsis.
[TL/DR: it was horrible but I'm still, somehow, sober]
I am FYEWMIN' with DP which is very upsetting and rare. 
For those who are unfamiliar with my longform rants: me = 55kg woman, disease that makes my bones abnormally fragile and prone to dislocation, terrible at surfing
DP = huge beefy bloke, 30 years experience in the water, ex profesh surfer, tackles waves the size of buildings with baffling enjoyment.
Today DP and his friend (who is a big burly type, excellent surfer and generally has a bit of a hearty PE teacher vibe) talked me into going for a surf at bit of a beach I've not been to before. I didn't want to go because a) I only had a thin suit with me and didn't want a long walk back to the car in the cold b) it was high tide against a cliff as far as I could see.
They reassured me the way down the cliff was only 100m away, it wasn't steep, and the tide wasn't that far in at that bit of the beach. DPs friend even said he takes his dog up and down there all the time and if she can get down it anyone can. Am enormous fan of said dog but she could reasonably be described as a bit on the porky and laid back side so I said I'd come. All of this, of course, turned out to be horseshit.
First we walked along a blowey clifftop for about ten mins. Me struggling with my new board (which is roughly the size and weight of a killer whale) and the boys jogging on energetically ahead. For anyone unfamiliar with males who surf, they all do this weird excited jog like they think they're the SAS when they're heading off to go in the sea. I've always found being suddenly left behind irrationally annoying, so after they shuffled off I said aloud to myself, "yeah, off you go then, fuck off without me", failing to realise their other friend had appeared out of nowhere right behind me on the path. He looked a bit guilty (and jogged past me).
Next we slide down a SHEER CLIFF FACE where there recently had been some sort of land/mudslide with the boys maneuvering my enormous board between them and cheerfully yelling, "it'll be FINE!".
Then, at the bottom, I looked back up at the cliff (made of clay) and the gathering rain clouds and said to DP "this was a stupid idea". They dived in like otters while I stood around like a total git too scared to go in much deeper than my waist in case I got hurt and then had to attempt to scale cliff of doom with an incapacitated limb or two (I know this sounds hysterical but you have to think about these things when you have my disease).
After a while watching the seals (so cute, like sea Labradors) for a bit, I was freezing so described to sack them off and start scrambling back up slowly.
DP then zooms out the water and says come down from there, we'll go round the other way, the climb up is safer.
The "other way" turned out to be a way out, up the rocks, but to get to it you have to go 300 meters up the beach, round sticky-out bits of cliff, most of which was neck deep in the high tide with buffeting waves against a sharp pointy cliff face. I have literally never been so scared in my life. I honestly thought I was going to drown. It was almost dark by this point and some walkers above were peering down at us obviously wondering if they needed to call the sodding coast guard. I was crying and shivering with cold and fear and DP bellowing at me to keep going and eventually we waded/swam there and climbed out and up the rocks with only a bruise or two.
Afterwards, I really wanted a bear-hug and a, "I'm really sorry, I know I get out that way all the time but I should have realised how scary that would be for you" but he just sort of said "I'm sorry you were frightened" which isn't the same thing. Thought about the rum in the cupboard the whole way home.
I think he is really sorry because he kept the heat up to tropical the whole drive home (which he hates) and bought me three kinds of AF lager at the supermarket and is generally being very nice to me. I'm not speaking to him but I did put a bit of red onion in the coleslaw (which I don't like much) as a sort of provisional olive branch.
Am, obviously, now in bed sulking.
Bloody bloody bloody boys and their cocking "it'll be fine" 