Ever have days when your hair just won't go right? However much you practically force your parting fringe into an upwards quiff, it will always collapse. However much spray you use to ensure that your self-created masterpiece stays that way, the minute you step outside a gust of wind hits you and pow, your hair is as flat as a pancake! And however much you try and remain posotive that despite looking and feeling utterly hideous, today will be a good day, with every single second, that slither is hope sinks.
Those days never end well.
And the only solution is pulling on your oldest, comfiest clothes. The ones with stains down them, and holes in the sleeves. The ones that hang from your body, overiding every rule Gok Wan states about accentuating your curves. And you reach into the fridge and pull out that secret selection of reserved chocolate, despite the diet in much need of starting. And you flick down the switch on the kettle, heaping generous amounts of hot chocolate powder into your favourite mug.
And then it all seems silly.
I secretly love days like this because they give me an excuse to act like a complete slob, and feel good about it.
Those days never end well.
And the only solution is pulling on your oldest, comfiest clothes. The ones with stains down them, and holes in the sleeves. The ones that hang from your body, overiding every rule Gok Wan states about accentuating your curves. And you reach into the fridge and pull out that secret selection of reserved chocolate, despite the diet in much need of starting. And you flick down the switch on the kettle, heaping generous amounts of hot chocolate powder into your favourite mug.
And then it all seems silly.
I secretly love days like this because they give me an excuse to act like a complete slob, and feel good about it.
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