This morning was productive. To a point at least.
I now have neat eyebrows, and lashes you can actually see again. (Seriously, it's not fun at all trying to find a slender, blonde eyelash that has gotten into an eye...) I caught up with the lady who does them for me, as that is always nice, and then bumped into a customer.
My day changed.
He was walking alone, which I didn't find unusual, but he said hello - as did I - and apologised for not having been in for a little while. He said missed his fish and chips and would love to come again, but his lovely companion and chauffeur passed away not so long ago. So sad...
That got under my skin. He is lovely, and to be fair, although Valerie looked after him, I didn't like her much. I felt guilty for that.
I returned home, flattened some cardboard boxes that had been hiding behind the sofa and sat down to watch TV that had recorded. Call The Midwife was definitely a mistake. I think I went through four tissues because of tears and snot.
My day hasn't really progressed from there. My eyes are still sore half the day later. I've hardly moved from where I sit now.
I don't intend to move much more today...
