Dear Diary:
Some of the gang went off to have lunch at a theatre event yesterday and then visited an older friend now in a swishy home for the aged followed by dinner at one of my favourite Chinese restaurants. A jam-packed-with-activity day.
I didn't even get a token invitation: you know, along the lines of: you must be up to your neck but hey, would you like to....
I admit it. I was hurt. That lasted about 4 minutes.
And then I started to laugh and laugh and laugh.
At myself.
Because seriously, Diary, it totally sounds like a day from hell for me: 12 hours of constant company and being "on", a horrific dinner/lunch theatre thing that every year involves at least one male actor in drag playing a simplistic, overly sexual (huge balloon breasts),short-skirted, simpering, grotesque, stupid woman that would have me gnashing my teeth in rage as all about me fall down in thigh-slapping, helpless laughter.
Thank you for small mercies.
