Troubles with choice
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I found out this morning that I have to go to a formal (dress code is: smart) dinner on Saturday evening, so I made an appointment to get my unruly tresses tamed (sounds better than getting a haircut) first thing on Saturday - my hair won't be tidy, it never is - it's very fine and flies about like tissue paper in the slightest draught.
Now, the difficult bit - choosing what to wear. For those of you thinking that living full time would be nirvana, beware - it's a living hell. Between now and Saturday I will have tried on virtually everything that could be considered suitable - except I won't be able to find the bit I need to make it perfect. I will have trashed my wardrobe pulling things out and dumping them on the bed - eventually pulling my hair out as well as crying my eyes out - plus the odd tantrum. This one or that? Dress or separates - the Laura Ashley or the Jaques Vert, the green or the red, which shoes, how high, accessories - beads or shiny things. Will it be warm in there or cool - do I need a jacket, how far will I have to walk from the car?
Which perfume and what makeup will I use? Will I have time to paint my nails assuming I don't break them between now and then? Do I wear my new lingerie under my 'smart' outfit.
And you think you have it bad now - I tell you, it's so much harder as a woman for everything, so those of you in doubt - don't do it, it's so tough making these decisions. Life and death is easy - you get it wrong and no more worries - get this wrong and people won't talk to you again (okay, that's a fib, but it sounds good).
Annoyingly, it's the CTC AGM and dinner and they've banned lycra from the dinner, which is a shame - I've got a nice new cycling shirt I could wear. So instead I'm tearing my hair out trying to decide what looks least awful or hides my fat tummy best. Oh decisions, decisions...