Oh God, have just realised that today is exactly ONE MONTH until my 30th bday. CRISIS! In my panic, I just ran to Topshop at lunchtime and bought some hideously unsuitable items (am professional person for God's sake), in vain attempt to cling on to youth. And I did the same on ASOS, accidentally placing 3 orders in my age-induced confusion. Oh WHY did I have to rediscover my inner teen just as it is all cruelly slipping away from me? It is just SO depressing.
And I can't find a funky gold-sequinned "birthday" dress that is not from Marks and Spencer (God that dress is all over the fashion press this week), as that would make me feel waaay too old.
It's really not helping that in the next room to me, I can hear my 21 year old assistant talking about her latest Size 6 pair of skinny jeans, while organising her wedding to her gorgeously fit South American boyfriend, when the only male company I have had this weekend is my gay friend K and a dreadful "investment wanker"-type bloke S and J tried to set me up with last night on the assumption that because we're the only singletons in their sea of smug married friends, we are clearly made for each other.
One month. ONE MONTH. One month to fit into a Size 8 pair of Victoria Beckham Rock & Republic jeans. (I've dropped my expectations - forget the novel or the Question Time panel - it's clearly not going to happen.)
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