Filter failure

As my hairdresser rinsed out my colour on Saturday afternoon he announced he was closing early because he was done for the day.

No! I said. You still need to cut my hair!

No! He replied. I’ve already cut it!

I was talking so much – both to him and the woman sitting in the chair beside me – that I didn’t notice.

That might give you some indication of what a motor mouth I am.

The discussion was mainly around my cruise and the modular home he’s building (two of my favourite topics), before I veered off into territory I later regretted.

Charlie the moodle has been unwell since I got home.

On Friday morning I woke to absolute carnage on the laundry floor, which was VERY unpleasant to clean up. At 2am on Saturday morning I heard whining (from Bilbo, who feared what was coming), so I staggered out of bed and let them out so the carnage could be on the balcony. I was woken again at 6.30am for further carnage on the balcony.

I haven’t had the fortitude to deal with it yet. I just closed the sliding door.

That is definitely NOT a story I should have been sharing in a hairdressing salon. I should have stuck to adoring my hairdresser’s khaki Adidas Gazelles.

My excuse is that I was running on very little sleep. On Friday night, my post-holiday insomnia collided with a neighbour deciding to have a very loud chat with their girlfriend at 1am outside my bedroom window, followed by the 2am and 6.30am wake up calls from the hounds.

I was determined to get an early night on Saturday, but someone had a party on a balcony directly opposite my bedroom window. Sigh. And I think I had a bad pasta because I was crook as Rookwood between 9pm and 2am. Sigh.

I tottered through Sunday, which included dinner with the youngest and watching the first vacuous episode of the Victoria Beckham series (which veers dangerously close to being a mockumentary, and finally slept before entering the fray of another week.

It’s going to be a BIG one, even by my standards.

I have a visit from my sister, a 50th anniversary winery dinner and a trip to the groomer for Charlie ahead of an insane weekend that kicks off with a dinner on the Northern Beaches, followed by a walk on the Lower North Shore, followed by lunch in the city with DD’s friends, followed by a frantic drive to Newcastle for a school reunion, a visit with my Dad and a catch-up with my mum.

Plus a vet visit may be in my future if Charlie’s health doesn’t improve soon

My holiday feels like a very distant memory.

Speaking of memories, I am SURE I used one of the portable hood hairdryers pictured above as a kid. That makes me feel SO old.

Song of the day: Benson Boone “Slow it down” (for you, sis)