Today hasn't been a good day, and nothing to do with the imminent arrival of halfway-to-seventy-ness. But as I will be going out tomorrow night to mark the occasion, preparations began in earnest today. It takes a while to get ready when you get to my age...! Eyelashes have been dyed, which has to be the most risky thing I've done this year. Forget bungee jumping, nothing strikes fear into the heart like ten minutes praying you don't lose your sight to a mascara wand. And tanning is done with my new 'birthday treat to myself' Vita Liberata kit. I must admit, as I stood naked in the bedroom, skin a terrifying shade of creosote, I had visions of not being able to leave the house until I had stopped glowing like something from TOWIE (or outer space). But mercifully, it showered off to reveal a nice (read normal) colour. But ladies and gents, if I may impart some words of wisdom regarding self tan - do as the bottle says and wipe your ankles, knees, elbows and eyebrows afterwards. Unless of course you like the 'just dipped my extremeties in used wet teabags' look of course. So now all that remains is the clothes selection process, which after the stresses of today can wait until tomorrow.
What was stressful about today? Operation Transport Pregnant Fish to Plastic Tank began in earnest and was, much to mine and Jenny's (the tank is in her room) dismay, a total failure. Having chased them around the tank with a net for what seemed like hours trying to get them out, they sat almost motionless at the top of their new tank, clearly hating it. I never thought it would be possible to tell a miserable fish from a normal fish, but I've seen it with my own eyes. And so began part two of net-chasing to bring them back downstairs to the MotherTank, where they began to frolic like newborn lambs in the spring sunshine. So I think I'll be starting the birthday a wee bit early, and enjoying a tipple tonight, Chin-chin!