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?