21 April 2017
Apparently, I’m looking “bedraggled”. So to the approval of Little Sis, I decided to do something about it and booked an evening of pampering and make up. Little Sis decided to come too and took charge of the arrangements. Tonight is the night and as planned, I drive to her house and meet her there so that we can car share. She comes to the door holding two face packs.
Little Sis: “I bought these; we can wear them in the car on the way there”
M: “You’re kidding?”
LS: “Absolutely not, come on, use this first”
She throws a ‘two in one’ cleaning and toning face wipe at me. After an approved amount of ‘wiping’ I apply the thick black shiny face mask and she does the same.
LS: “Come on, let’s go, we can peel it off when we get there”
M: ”We will look weird”
LS: “Other drivers will be concentrating on the road. There will be nobody looking. Come on”
I’m the nominated driver. I’m not one hundred percent sure of the way, so I blindly follow Little Sis’ instructions. We’re almost half way there when we run out of petrol.
M: “Oh, for fuck’s sake”
[H is a long way from earshot]
M: “We’ve run out of petrol”
LS: “Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. There’s a station a few miles from here. You can get some there”
We flip a coin. I lose. I run.
Attendant: “Bloody hell, what have you come as?”
H: “Young and carefree”
Attendant: “How’s that working out for you?”
I run. As my feet pound the floor (I have never been a graceful runner) the skin on my face pulls against the mask, which has become hard and rubbery.
Little Sis is laughing when I get back to the car. Her laughter is deeper than usual because she can’t move her cheeks or open her mouth. I do the same.
M: “Don’t make me laugh, it hurts my cheeks”
LS: “I know”
We arrive without further need to leave the car. The mask now looks like shiny black patent leather so we decide to remove it before we get out.
M: ”Oh my God!”
After fifteen minutes of delicate peeling we both have very red but very clean and soft skin.
M: “Do I look younger?”
LS: “Ten years”
M: “Fabulous, Let’s go”
The makeup is amazing. Technically I know it’s not great to pile on the make up immediately after putting your face through trauma (Erm, I mean an intense and refreshing purification), but it felt great to do something girlie and to see a sparkly version of me in the mirror. Little Sis always sparkles.
LS: “Let’s take photographs”.
So we did.
I arrived home to a tidy house and smiley Hubby.
Hubby: “Great look”
M: “Why, thank you”
[Enjoying a hug]
Monday, 24 April 2017
The eyelashes stayed put all weekend. Skinny jeans and eyelashes, get me!
This morning I manage to get up early, pain free and with a minimal cough. H is an angel and I have time to actually sort my hair and apply make-up, get H to nursery on time and stop at the coffee shop opposite the office for a drink on my way in.
As I leave the coffee shop, hazelnut latte in hand, I pass Mr X.
Mr X: “Morning”
I arrive in the office to an email from the Employment Tribunal. It’s a Reserved Judgment in favour of my client.
At lunch time I receive a text message from Hubby. He’s likely to finish early. Hurrah, dinner together this evening.