Shit.
Warning: Do not invite your mother for dinner on a school night. Sheeeeesh ke-effing-bab. She's hardcore. and as a result, please do not judge my inability to string coherent sentences together too harshly today - I'm weak of faculty of mind, liver, ears, eyes and other important organs.
I've got work today (do not go there - I'm swearing and cursing and damning the whole world). And so had the Parental Unit for dinner and a sleepover so they could take care of The Daughter today. When I left this morning, they were all passed out in a stupour of sleep so stunning that I turned a very lime shade of green.
I cannot handle my liquor. Three glasses of wine and I'm a screaming scene. It's just what I am: a cheap date. But, also, I am unable to learn from my mistakes. And so, with my feet up and the glorious view of Durban in front of me, sitting alongside one of my most favourite people in the world - The Incubator - I thought I was oh-so-hardcore, and kept topping up my wineglass.
Error. Grave. HUGE.
This morning I looked at myself in the mirror and got the shock of my life (worse than the time my brothers told me that the electric fence was turned off and that I should go and touch it). I looked like one of those rabbits that they do animal testing on - eyes red and oozing sleep goop.
And the skin - the upper eyelid is an avocado shade of green. The black rings under my eyes are so enormous that I've had to apply industrial strength concealer all the way to my jaw line. And my skin - sallow is how I hope to look one day. It's taken on a transluscence that allows one to peer through skin and into brain - the colour of which I'm sure is an off-yellow.
And if that's not enough - I woke up with two cheeky pimples. What the hell? Pimples and wrinkles? Surely God does not dislike me so?
I have so much concealer on today that my face is hanging about 7 cm lower than it usually does due to the weight.
When did I get so effing old?
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