Love may be blind, but...

It's taken me all of today to open all three week's worth of post, pay my utility bills and try to get back onto planet Earth. I went for lunch with my friends who greeted me like a foot soldier back from the trenches. Even though I put on some make up, the battle fatigue was clearly visible.

I had a self-examination in front of the mirror this morning before I took a shower. I stripped off all my clothes and stared at my reflection. Take a good look at those dark circles under the eyes and the triple bags (who would have thought this was possible?), the saggy skin that has the colour and texture of dead bees, the dull, lanky brown-black hair that is crumpled around my shoulders like dry seaweed. Feet that beg for a pedicure and hands that scream for a manicure. I stared at the pale faced girl in the mirror with grim satisfaction. So this is what it comes down to in the end - I am becoming a frumpy, ugly, overworked and neurotic associate. I used to wonder why my female senior associates looked so unattractive - now I'm one of them. Except I'm not senior.

I have two days to work on this before M. arrives. But love is blind, I hear you cry. Well, yes, my dearies, but what about the other senses - touch, smell and so forth? And since when was love ever truly blind? Wish me luck in my transformation into a vaguely passable impression of a delightful woman.