It is with great sadness that I have to admit that I was forced to seek some therapy this weekend.
Kurt has been flipping the bird at the house rules again, (more of that in a later post), and I have been struggling to focus and get my work done with the old man hanging around the house on annual leave and being as demanding as a fourth child.
Which has led to a serious bout of cabin fever.
As you are aware, I have always been a firm believer in seeking help when it is needed, which is precisely why I headed straight to the Kirribilli Markets and Pitt St mall on a self-help mission yesterday.
For some REAL WOMEN’S therapy.
I got up early, donned the best Bohemian look I could muster and armed with my morning coffee from my favourite local café I began my mission in earnest.
I started at the market and found this rocking jumper for NC which fed the beast of homesickness that has been bubbling gently beneath the surface of my gloom. I’m a sucker for anything with a union jack on it and this soothing little piece of patriotism cost me the small fortune of $5:
But there just wasn’t enough ‘orange’ or ‘bling’ to get my heart racing at the market.
So, undeterred, I headed off to Pitt St Mall to finish what I had started.
I had visions of finding the perfect little outfit to transform me into Charlize Theron…
But the sad truth is that I don’t have Charlize’s body, face or money as much as I love decadence and frivolity, my lifestyle doesn’t really extend to the need for much gold lame evening wear, so I ended up in my usual stores.
Did I mention that I have a passion for anything orange or fabulously blinging at the moment? For some reason, most of the middle-aged women I know need a bit of sparkle in their lives, these days. Hmmmmm?
And I tried on lots of silly accessories in Sports Girl, like these:
Because when I become Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman and wear lots of very silly accessories (that I know will look crap and I have no intention of buying), I feel a whole lot better than when I JUST shove chocolate in my mouth.
Am I alone in feeling like this, ladies?
Then I discovered lots of lovely bling in Zara too.
It didn’t even matter that I didn’t buy anything, because the left-over Easter eggs and wine were still waiting at home to be inhaled.
What’s makes your feel better about yourself?
Lunch with friends. They don’t make me feel old and fat like clothes shopping does. Or I like re-imagining what my house could look like if I had the money/skills/no children with chocolatey fingers and mountain of plastic tut. Or spending too much money on lotions and creams that don’t do what they say on the tin, but do make my skin soft.
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Agree with the lunch. Never seen the thrill of cosmetics or creams and walk very quickly through the perfume departments. Love to fantasise about how my home COULD look but with a husband with no interest, I’m finding it too hard to handle these days.
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Lunch with friends and wine does it for me as does searching for goodies for the home here in the very limited WA stores.
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