A Castle of Cliches

It's 9:27pm & dangerously close to my Official Bedtime. So I must make haste.
I've been back at school for a week & surprise yawn surprise yawn, it feels like I've never been away.
Don't you hate it when you hear yourself roll out some tired old cliche? Actually it's not tired so much as Totally Exhausted.
I'd love to spend the rest of the blog entry listing all the tired old cliches that I routinely wheel out, much like the list of Jobs that I'd Rather Not Do that I mentioned last time, but I won't.
Instead, I'll walk you through my Outfits for last week.

First cab off the rank (another cliche that's so exhausted it must be on its last legs . Quelle horreur - I'm building one cliche on top of another. I'll soon have a Castle of Cliches ) is a black & White Charlie Brown frock which sadly is Synthetic. In the past I happily wore the most prickly of synthetics with gay abandon. It never worried me that I was burning up like a charcoal chicken inside a Sea of Polyester.
But now it does. Maybe because I managed to score some silken garments from Bednobs, my favourite charity shoppe, & finally at age sixty, I discovered the Luxury of Silk.
Don't you just love the word Luxury? It's got to be one of the Best Words of All along with Home & Bacon & Poodle & of course Love.

A Short List of Luxury:
1. Silk garments
2. 1200 thread count cotton sheets. I now own two pairs in light blue. I adore them but since they were washed they've become v creased & I'm certainly not going to bother ironing them. How can you iron king sized sheets anyway ? An impossible feat.
They still feel luxurious though.
3. Having a coffee mug that says, "actually I'm a rocket surgeon"
4. Having a classroom that is air conditioned. I know that sounds ridiculous in this day & age, I mean, who outside people who hold up Stop-Go signs at roadworks doesn't have air con at work?
I never did. Until now. So it feel like luxury.
5. Having a pedicure. I love the sheer luxury of sitting back in a vibrating chair & having my feet pampered & coiffed. I did this yesterday, a perfect Sunday afternoon activity that is guaranteed to eliminate any End of Weekend Ennui. . I totally loved the experience even though two young women next to me talked at the tops of their hyena-like voices about the break up of Miranda Kerr's marriage to Orlando Bloom & the rumours of James Packer's involvement in the breakup. And then of course there was the endless tut-tutting about Shane Warne's sexting to his ex-wife which sent Liz Hurley scuttling back to her old squeeze Hugh Grant. By the time they wheeled out the new allegations against Woody Allen, I had my ear buds firmly in place & I was listening to ACDC full throttle on my iPhone. Highway to Hell never sounded so good.

Must now hop into bed with creased but luxurious sheets.