I am sitting here in the middle of the night with a very funky hairdo, because my adventures in my dreams have made my hair stand up all over the place. I look like I have gone punk, and it does have a certain attraction all of its own. It is your typical bedroom hairdo and would look attractive in an appropriate movie scene. Of course, I would need the appropriate male co-star to go with it. And soft subdued lighting to hide the little faults that come with my age.
My own domestic help told me the other day that I had very dry skin and that I should rub baby oil all over it. I do not know if I want to be quite that slippery, but I do have a bottle of baby lotion that I may use instead. If it is used on babies, it can not be bad for the skin of a middle aged woman who needs some help, but is too lazy to apply it. I do so not like to fuss with myself and have never developed the habit. I am vain about my clothes, but neglect the rest. That makes me look good from a distance, but dubious if scrutinized from up close.
Actually, I am the sort of woman who should have those sort of things done to her. I should have pedicures and manicures and facials and massages on a very regular basis. I mean, very often. So, that means I should be rich and independently wealthy and to my great disappointment, I am not. I will, out of necessity, start having to do these things for myself. Darn, Melissa Gates is very lucky, but then I do not know how Bill is to live with. He is probably not a dreamboat.
I had chunky chicken noodle soup for dinner last night and some time later a goat cheese sandwich. I did not want to push my luck and eat them all at once, and all went well. I only burped a little bit, but that is allowable. As long as I am not having dinner with the queen, I will not worry about that. The main thing is, that I did not get sick and that I kept everything down.
My GP has increased my stomach tablets to me taking one twice a day to help me get over the burping. I hope the extra one will start working soon. I must also remember to chew my food well because of my gastric band. That is an extra complication. Ah, if eating were only a simple thing...