I tell you I don't have time to get a job....

 There was a wonderful and hedonistic Significant Birthday celebration of a glamorous friend on Thursday. Hiring the Electric Cinema in Portobello road,  we drank champagne, nibbled canapes and sat down with a bottle to watch 'The Red Shoes'.  A few of us 'Ladies Who Lurch' (AKA 'The Gin-Raddled  Hags')   squeezed in as much gossip as we could over  a few hours and left  slightly full of joi de vivre and more wine.   Husbands may be pleased (relieved?)that despite our talk of shopping, there was none to be done that day....

Of course I am not complaining at the sight of a Gentleman  ordering  champagne in my honour in the hotel bar but I do think we went above and beyond the call of duty by ordering another one to round the evening off.  The  table next to us seemed amused at this heroic sight or maybe they were just impressed or shocked - who could tell? So it was a bit of a relief when my next Gentleman Caller the next day only required a cup of tea. Then honestly darlings,  I only meant to pop out for a cocktail or two (oh and maybe a glass of bubbly?) but ended up in a restaurant getting slightly squiffy discussing Tits v Kitchen?, the delights of  Ben Cohen (well  maybe rugby players in general) and dropping my cigarettes on the way out.

If people had told me this  redundancy lark would be so much fun, I'd have buggered off much earlier.

  But alas! my exciting life has come to an end and I am now picking up bits of dead rodent from the dining room floor and hanging out my smalls on the washing line. There's a kitchen to clean, a bathroom floor to wash and a pile of ironing yet to contemplate. But NEXT week.....