The news came through the airwaves at 10am - Cousin LL and Mr Cousin LL are getting hitched!!!
By 12.40pm Cousin LL was getting worried as she had not heard from me. She had visions that I was either:
1. Crying in a jealous heap and yelling at the sky 'Why God, why isn't it me?!'
2. Beating Mr Rose over the head with a rolling pin saying 'go on ask me ask me ask me'
3. Dancing around the room in a leotard doing the Single Ladies dance frantically thrusting my ring finger in his chops
But none of the above was true. I was in a heap. But I was not sobbing in a jealous rage I was snoring gently with what can only be described as a Class A hangover.
After ringing her and whooping excitedly, for I really am very pleased for them, the cold realisation set in that I felt like a port soaked badger had died in my head and was slowly rotting.
Last night was NYE and we hosted a small supper for our pals Alexa and Ackrington. It was a raucous evening and I'm feeling the effects of too much champagne, Sauvignon Blanc and port. It is the port which has laid me low today- every time I drink it I swear I never will again. Sigh. You'd think at 30 I would have an idea about how not to poison myself.
In order to shake off the feeling of slow death, we had an uber healthy lunch of chicken casserole filled with lentils, spinach and veg.
Then I had a delightful bath with my top reviving products: Elemis herbal lavender repair mask, l'oreal elvive renutrition hair mask and a lovely body lotion from Cowshed- called Horny Cow!
I now have shiny hair, glowing skin and smell less like a tramp. Bingo.
Now I can get on with the serious business of the day, finding pictures of mahoosive rings I think Cousin LL should get!
Happy new year, possums.