I've been rushed off my little trotters this morning. Rushing from pillar to post with the wind firmly battering my sails. Hirdy Girdy indeed. Downed a
bottle of wine and a punnet of Houmous last night. How did that happen? I was duped by the ladyfriend. We were chatting away in the kitchen and I saw her with the bottle opener but didn't compute. Before I knew it I heard "Thwook" and the cork was out and a glass was in my hand. It all happened so quickly there was nothing I could do. It was a bit like those accidents when children get run over chasing a ball. Terrible.
I have decided I have a fight on my hands if I wish to retain my girlish figure. The ladyfriend is definitely a feeder.
Driving to work this morning I suddlenly realised that I can't remember the last time I knew what record was number one. The hit parade is a complete unknown to me. Is this because I am advancing in years? Is it a good thing? My exposure to popular music these days comes through advertisements and the occasional few bars I snatch when entering boutiques in the misguided attempt to look smart but casual.
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