Yesterday mid to late morning I received a call from a friend: 'We're having an early lunch at the café down the road from you, come join us! Ten minutes!'
Oh how lovely, sez I and rush around collecting keys, phone, money, put the fire-guard in front of the fire (yup, still not warm enough to let the fire die out), lock the back door, jump into the car, look at the clock and think: 'What a cinch, I'll easily make it in ten minutes.'
Something felt funny though and I looked down at myself to find...
...I was still wearing my pyjamas!
(The weather is so bad and drying clothes so difficult that I've been staying in pjs until all the chores are done, as its easier to launder them than jeans or tracksuit pants, and cleaning out the fire etc gets pretty mucky.)
So I leapt out of the car, rushed into the house to dress and comb hair and then got caught behind a four-miles-a-fortnighter at the end of the lane. I was only five minutes late though, which, considering the circumstances was pretty amazing of me, don't you think?