In which I boast about achieving nothing.
In which I am rescued by a bath melt.
In which a bath bomb saves me from a great deal of fuckwittery
In which I learn why you shouldn't by bath bombs off Ebay.
In which I get up very early and prove I have no self control.
In which my hairdresser screws with my mind.
Sometimes, when things go wrong, and you want to go to sleep, but you want to stay up and watch the Olympics opening ceremony, all you can do is slather yourself in Sympathy for the Skin, and hope for the best.