I stood looking in the mirror this morning and I found another grey hair in the middle of my brown locks. It was depressing but it’s only part of the problem. As I looked harder I saw something else, I saw someone who had lost their identity during years of stress. I have lost what defines me as me.
Like most females, I like to look my best but in a world were the standard of beauty and fashion changes as quickly as a hooker can remove her knickers, it leaves people like me with whiplash trying to keep up. It’s not helped with the amount of selfies we see online of our friends who seem to roll out of bed looking like they have stepped out of a magazine. And then there is that bitch in the office who strolls around the place in high heels looking like a model while claiming that it only takes her an hour to get ready. Yeah, right, and where did you get the magic clock that slows down time so that you can achieve that? No really, I need one to help me get through the mountain of ironing and have a bath in peace.