Second Helpings

Imponderables

Another day in paradise - not. Banks, gym, shopping and la la land all brimming with excitement and potential adventures - not. Far be it from me to complain but all I have to offer are a few imponderables.

Why is it I spent twice as long and twice as much money yesterday on highlights and lowlights at the hairdressers only to wind up looking like a punk-rocking, dysfunctional lemur? This means I now have an extra session at the salon on Tuesday to correct the problem. Maybe I should ask for a Britney.

Why is it the simple task of acquiring bank cards so I can help my parents access money and pay bills for them has turned into a marathon saga involving countless communications and requiring the devastation of a rainforest in paperwork? I notice they both have very healthy bank accounts too, yet will insist I give them the exact amount of change for anything I purchase on their behalves.

Why is it when I'm wired up to the gym's television that Gwen Stefani, Beyonce and Anastacia have thin thighs and flat bellies whilst involved in a pathetic bit of gyrating, while I'm sweating buckets and failing to get rid of the forty pounds I gained drinking a can of lager last night?

Why is it when I decide the only item I really want for my wardrobe is a blue dress, that suddenly blue is considered the most uncool, unfashionable and not-to-be-seen-dead-in colour of the moment? I do not want brown, grey, puce, green, or beige thank you.

Why is it hubby thinks our son's latest announcement that if he can't find a job in Australia in the next week or so then they'll be coming here is perfectly acceptable? Anything for family and exclude the rest of the world is his mantra. I'll wait and see how he feels when his kitchen sink is invaded, the washing basket's twice as full, his hoover and ironing board are abducted, curry aromas drift from the kitchen every night and his comfortable routine is disrupted.

Maybe it's time I robbed my parent's bank accounts, had liposuction, then set off on a world trip to find the perfect blue dress to match my lemur hair. Sod 'em all.

Excuse my positive attitude. I'm thinking of amending my funeral requests to include 'Always look on the bright side of life,' as they send me off to where there are no parents, kids, husbands, hairdresser nightmares, fashion dictators or exercise regimes. Bliss.