So yesterday, after I had my bath, I stood up and had a stretch, and there was an almighty crunch, and that was my right shoulder finding its way back into the position it’s supposed to be in, which isn’t anything approaching a normal position, but does mean I can move my head to the right again, more or less.
And when I went to bed, there were silver sparkles in my knickers from the bath bomb. By the time I did go to bed, it had been decided that I wasn’t going to work tomorrow, because the technical tomfoolery of yesterday wasn’t fixed.
That should have meant I got today off, but in fact I have spent most of the day on the phone, and the rest of the time prepping for a meeting which was due to happen tomorrow, but itself got postponed at 5pm. Joy.
Meanwhile, for a few weeks I’ve been hatching a sneaky plan about future work, and at 4pm I discovered that plan had failed, so all in all it’s been one of those days.
At some point my cleaner turned up, and tried to clean around me while my day, and possibly my life, was falling apart. My cleaner likes my new balcony furniture. She has also noticed my Lush stash has got bigger lately, she commented on how nice my bathroom always smells. It does. I give good bathroom.
All this time my life was falling down around me, I still had silver sparkles all over me. By 6pm I was sending people I trust angry emails – emails which involved the word Ghostbusters – and I realised I needed to give up and go for a walk, so I went to the concierge office where parcels get communally delivered. I sorted out my spare key situation – I have a spare key situation – and that was the most productive I had managed to be all day.
And there was a parcel for me, and it was a parcel full of bath bombs, including a bomb called The Enchanter. The Enchanter smells of oranges and limes and is a little bit musky too and, all in all, is zingy and cheerier than my day has been.
My bathroom was very bright. I need some mood lighting. I am not brave enough for candles. Candles would kill me.
The Enchanter is a beautiful bath bomb, with oranges and pinks and yellows. I also chucked two of my bras in the bathwater, unromantically. I can’t do my own laundry and the next service wash isn’t happening for at least a week, and a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s got to do. Now you understand why I don’t post pictures of my baths.
I am going to work tomorrow. I can turn my head to the right. The smell of The Enchanter on my skin is lovely, like I have been shagging someone in an orangery.