But I love Roald Dahl

This evening, I started writing a post about how I just used Fizzbanger for the first time, despite an enormous aversion to its cloying, over-confident scent.  In the other post, I referenced both the BFG, and the fact I could happily eat German apple cake every day, but sniffing a Fizzbanger – with the same key ingredients – makes me gag.  Any which way, I bought one in Oxford Street the other day, because I was in a weird mood, and  because like daring myself, and this evening – early evening, I had been working at home all day – I wanted something different, and this was it, and I did not gag, and I might use one again some time, but not any time soon.

The bath has been the least interesting part of my day, tho.  I had manipulated my diary entirely so I could work at home and have a lie in.  At 8:15 I got word that something that was supposed to happen, hadn’t happened, and the result was that I had to sprint to the local shopping centre to find an Argos, and that was weird, but there was a large Waitrose nearby, so I finally own good quality cheap bath foam again, which is joyful, of which more later.

Also today, my colleague met a semi naked man wandering the corridors of my building, and I spent about half an hour having leg cramps this afternoon, but at least I am in good company there.

My new Clinique products arrived, and today I used the charcoal face mask for the first time.  There was something oddly satisfying about painting my face blue amd feeling my skin tighten and tighten.  I have a good feeling about this one, and now all I would like is for my calf muscles to loosen, even just a little.


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