On my journey to return clothes in ridiculously optimistic sizes to shops, a nice young man offered me his seat on the tube. I was surprised as this hasn't happened to me before. I immediately thought I must look old, terribly old, ancient, haggard - I knew that Botox was a waste of money. It has made me look a bit tired and bruised so I probably resembled a battered wife making her way back to her refuge. Or maybe I just looked pregnant - I suspect the diet isn't really having much effect. Or perhaps he was just a lovely chap with good manners whose Mum should be proud of him.
I picked up my new mouse shoes from Selfridges then met my goddaughter, Selena, at the bus stop. We chatted and she admired my shoes and stroked their whiskers. To top off my self improvement for this week I had my eyebrows threaded and my nails done which are now an elegant shade of plum (nails not eyebrows).
My calendars arrived and I have completed my Januarys. My Februarys look a bit dreary, not that I care as Mr Smith and I will be whooping it up in the Caribbean fighting mosquitoes and getting sunburnt during Feb. However, I will redesign them to stop everyone topping themselves before Spring.
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