Sick. Sick. Sick

Ugh. I must've been sick yesterday as I didn't even blog. Agh.

I slept nearly the whole day, couldn't breath and looked like hell. Still, last night Rocker cocked his head and said "You look like a completely different person without your make-up". "Like hell?" I said - "Much better actually..." - Much better?! Well tickle my tits 'til Tuesday - permission to let myself go!!

As if. My love affair with make-up will never end. It's as constant in my life as the air we breath and my love for the film Footloose. Nobody can take it away from me!

So I woke yesterday at 8, had a bit of 'us' time with Rocker (who has the very retro illness Bronchitis, mixed with low level plurosy - fluid on the lungs), pottered around like the Elephant Man for an hour then went back to bed until 2, watched Capturing the Friedmans (which blew my mind), then slept again until 6.

I'm living the dream you know, life doesn't get better than this.

Today it's Omnibus Eastenders and a DVD marathon for us.

Tomorrow is my first day at new work and I have to at least create the illusion of professionalism!

He he