I woke up this morning feeling relaxed. Tiddles was at a sleepover last night so we had a lovely lie-in this morning - not that we don't when she is here, just that the house was a little quieter. Anyway, having decided that I really should drag my lazy backside out of the bed and go have a bath, I took a quick look in the mirror to decide whether I should wash my hair or do a salvage job with the hair straighteners.
WHAT IS THAT? I'm not even joking when I say I had grown something below my right eye in the night. An eye bag (I think) the size of a suitcase, sitting on my cheek like its waiting to go on holiday, all packed up and ready to go. No joke, this thing is horrid. When I went to bed last night my face was normal, well as normal as it usually is, and now this thing has decided to join me in the night.
Even Maintenance Man, who is usually very good at lying about things such as "does my bum look big in this?", made a comment to the effect of "oh god what is that?" Now I know its bad.
Make up - that's what we need. Wash face, slap on moisturiser and hmmmm yes, concealer and face powder. No, no, no, that's not good. Now it looks like a third eye, only this one is closed. I feel like Scaramanga, even if he has 3 nipples not 3 eyes. Wash face again.
Google it!! That's the way to find out anything. Google has the answer to any question you may wish to pose and I use it regularly. Google will save me. Google will give me the cure.
I HATE GOOGLE !!!
Apparently, I am getting old - like I needed stuffing Google to tell me that for gods sake. Inherited genes (cheers mum) and age, along with bad lymphatic drainage (maybe I should just make a few holes somewhere to help things along then) are the cause of this problem and it MAY, not will, sort itself out in a few days/weeks.
Great to I now have to carry my new friend around with me indefinitely. Hooo bloody ray... not!!
So I am destined to a possible life of luggage face. I am starting to imagine what life is going to be like if it grows, am I going to trip over the damn thing all the time? Will I have to tuck it into my jeans? Could I poke it behind my right ear perhaps? Its all too disturbing for words.
Any words of wisdom on a cure would be much appreciated. Until then, I reckon there is only one thing for it - I need MORE WESTLIFE..
Obviously I didn't have nearly enough Youth Serum so if you read this boys,