You wake up in the morning, hair flung everywhere in your face or mine sticking up like I have had an electric shock and a bit of halitosis in the early hours. The brush doesn’t get to tame the mane. When you put make up on and red lipstick splashes from your face to your only clean shirt which is white. You burn the toast and then that classic moment you put your panty hose on hurriedly leave the house, meet a handsome brother man walking down the road and he smiles then you suddenly feel the bum is a bit nippy. Then you realise you have been walking down the streets with the back of your skirt neatly tucked into your Bridget Jones panties. You neatly put your hand bag on the pavement and adjust your skirt with the biggest grin on your face and think what a beautiful day and wiggle that backside like you never wiggled it before and pat yourself on the back you are superwoman. Nothing fazes you. Every day is beautiful
