I wish I was better at time management; this week I feel I've hardly had a chance to have a sit down, let alone read, write, make telephone calls (must arrange a girls weekend soon with Julesey Baby now we're illness free), dentist appointments, doctors, birthdays (two important ones coming up - one 6 and one 60), let alone anything else.
Instead, when I get a bit stressed or rushed I start by saying the inappropriate. Accidentally told Jem's new teacher today that her boobs were large. It was in context though, honest, she'd told me she'd toppled on top of them. And I was saying at least she was protected.
Earlier whilst bemoaning lack of time I realised I have a hair dressers appointment this afternoon and I've committed the cardinal grey haired sin of not dying my hair yet. Nothing worse than being faced with an elderly looking self in a bright salon surrounded by slim enthusiastic young things. Oh, and with a head like a badger myself. A pale white badger with a big moon face.
So of course whilst chatting to some friends, and the deputy head of the school this morning I mentioned this problem. And how the hairdresser will think I am a hair slut. In front of the bloody children too!
I could go on about how lack of time leads me to stupid things...but I am seriously out of time.
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