She's a lady.

I had my second appointment with the fancy Harley Street endodontist this afternoon and managed to fart around all morning until the last possible minute, fly in and out of the shower and dress in clothes that were ripped (top), too short (both top and bottom) and too low (bottom)/too high (top) to cover my big lacy pants. Score!

(The Harley Street demographic is odd. There are a lot of high heels and augmented body parts. And also double-breasted Colonel and Mrs Colonel types, and a smattering of old couples dragging small, wheeled suitcases.)

Anyway, in the post-appointment anaesthetic haze, I tottered into Jaeger and tried on everything in their sale. I'm fed up of being hot and scruffy and never looking like a proper adult, like one of those women on What Not to Wear who buys all her clothes in charity shops.* I usually think I'm rocking an edgy vintage  look but who's to say I don't look like I get my clothes out of black plastic bags before going to Paddington Station for a wash? That's the kind of day I was having. (Also, my face was too numb to eat anything, so I was also kind of drunk on low blood sugar. Will I never learn to show up early and eat lunch immediately before a dentist appointment?) So I had a wobbly, blurry, short-tempered shopping experience.

This is in contrast to yesterday, when I was totally on my housewifely game and managed to get to the auction to attempt to load a chest of drawers into my car (which, it turns out was not the correct dimensions),** shop for a huge quantity of food, get the car petrolled up, arrive home in time for the actual chest of drawers delivery, clean the fridge, put all the groceries away, bake bread, wash and hang out bedding, and cook five - five - Indian dishes for dinner (thank you Madhur Jaffrey), all by mid-afternoon. I felt like superwoman. Also, I was relatively well turned out (clean and dressed anyway) and made up, which deserves extra points I feel.

And to change the subject completely, who's going to esplain me Twitter please? I don't really understand it. I've had an account for ages and it sits in its little electronic room, silently following Dooce,*** making no impact on the world. I am mystified by the various social media/microblogging options.****

And who is reading this in Greenford?? We're practically neighbours! Leave a comment. Seriously. Comments: I need 'em.




* As we all know, there are charity shops and charity shops.
** Sorry auction porter guys who dragged it out and lifted it into the car in the heat to find it wouldn't go. 
*** When I signed up and was testing it out, she was the only person who came to mind.
**** Get me, using the word "microblogging" in a sentence.