I’m a dag and I don’t care!

For a number of reasons today.
I’m eating lunch alone, which is a toasted tuna & spinach sandwich and a chocolate frappe…pretty close to a fish milkshake once it’s in my belly…

I’m propped up awkwardly in a corner couch, 7 months pregnant and pretty uncomfortable reading a cool magazine.

my outfit consists of a faded retro stretchy dress, too small really, only being worn for maternity variety, tights, sandals on unpedicured feet, ratty hair and unkept eyebrows.

To add to this, my surrounding environment is made up of boutique everything shops, fashionista waif beauties, and BMWs.

To finish lunch I have awful heartburn and have just consumed half a pack of quickeze. Total dag dag dag!

But man, this time is MINE! I’m pondering creative projects, planning meals for mums I know need some help, enjoying the quiet, being saddened by peoples need for pretense, and praying for my beautiful family.

I’m not going to lie, I also dream of being thinner, more stylish with nicer hair and hooves, to own or sell designer things, and maybe one day have a car upgrade, but I am learning to be content as I waiver in and out of confidence.


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