My new job starts in a couple of hours. What shall I wear? Dirty overalls rather than a cocktail dress is probably the order of the day. Oh. Well maybe I will try to look nice then pop my overalls on top of my clothes and look like I mean business. Right, that rules out anything flouncy.
I am then off to the sea to find out just how awful the crack in the wall is and whether my flat has failed the survey and we are back to square one. Actually, I would just get it repaired and find another buyer. Sounds simple but we will see. Failing that I will fill the crack with toothpaste.
Hair and nails on Friday. A girl needs a little maintenance from time to time.
Serious house hunting on Saturday. I have to direct Mr Smith away from a hideous old people's bungalow. Honestly, sometimes I think he was born an old man. He is 53 not 80 and I have to have a holiday home that doesn't make me feel violently unwell. I am not living in a horrid bungalow full stop. You can't even make it "pretendy trendy" i.e. plaster ducks, larva lamps, hideous 50s wallpaper and a cuckoo clock. Nobody would get it, least of all Mr Smith.
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