Thursday, August 04, 2011

Oh no!

I am not a morning person.  Not at all.  I get up in the morning at 06:15, drag my ancient old tracksuit over my protesting limbs and I skulk around the house until 07:30am.  Yes, this unfortunately means that the image my nearest and dearest carry around in their heads all day is of me, skulking, in my bed-head hair and my ancient tracksuit.  Not exactly a vision of loveliness, but there you have it. 

By 07:30 I am sufficiently awake to step into the shower, slap my make-up on, have a brief but very satisfactory love affair with my GHD and emerge, not exactly like a butterfly from a chrysalis, but certainly better looking than when I stepped INTO the shower!

The problem is that my father picks Paula up every morning at 7am and drops her at school on his way to work.  I am the person that has to let Paula out of the gate at 7am.  And, yes, I perform this task with bed-head hair, in my ancient tracksuit.  Fortunately we live on a quiet little street and there is never anyone around at 7am.

Until this morning.  This morning Paula's revolting dog dashed out of the gate into the street and I had to run after it to herd it home.  And at that very moment, a car drove down the street!  And behind the wheel of that car was someone I went to high school with!  This person who remembers me as a sleek, sexy, sixteen year old, got to see huge and ungainly me, in my ancient track-suit, sans make-up and with my bed-head hair!  Oh gawd, the humiliation of it........  I may never get over it......

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