1 Mar 2007
Today, after going to a group with my friend Donna, which is top-secret but may involve the counting of points and writing down what you eat, I went to the mega mall and sat in a huge massage chair and had a pedicure in one of those big nail bar chains.
While those mechanical fingers circled themselves up and down my spine, they somehow channelled the taste of a bingo playing pensioner from Vegas into my nerve endings.
Because, after choosing my nail colour (mistake 1) I went to a jeweller to buy a watch to replace mine which I haven't been able to find since we went camping the other weekend (mistake 2).
On the way home I looked at my blue-black metallic toenails and the 4cm wide gold bracelet watch encrusted with baguette shaped zwaroski crystals and I said to myself "where did this disgusting watch come from? What kind of almost forty year old has blue-black metallic toenails? Who the hell am I?"
The moral of the story? Don't go shopping the day after you lose your job. Oh, and don't try to take a self portrait of your left hand and right foot on the bonnet of a car.