The Lie-in, The Bitch, and the Wardrobe

Oh, happy days. First up, I wake up with a stinker of a headache - a hang-over from yesterday's stress - and then remember that I am working off-site today in the Archive Store, which is an old mill and apparently not particularly nice. I've been warned to wear nothing that I care about, which brings me to the subject...


I knew that I'd have problems finding clothes that I don't care about, having just cleaned my collection out literally days before being told of the odious assignment. Never heed, it is hubby's day off and he lies hither in yonder bed. I poke my head round the door to humbly ask if I can borrow an old t-shirt from him, and am told, very grumpily, to just take 'whatever'. Now... I know perfectly well that if I borrowed certain items from him, there would be hell to pay - I just don't have an encyclopaedic knowledge of what those items are. Just taking 'whatever' is not an option.

Eventually I scared up a long top which I had thought thrown out, which I am wearing with a vest underneath. It covers my backside, and since the old jeans I have on are a good two sizes too big and prone to falling down, this is a good thing. I'm a little annoyed (hem hem) at hubby for his unhelpfulness, since he has a huge wardrobe in addition to his twenty-odd items of work clothing, while (cue violins!) I have a scarce fourteen items in my wardrobe suitable for summer. This is entirely my own fault, since I grudge paying money for clothing with such a short season. This may, considering the weather, have been a mistake.

Off to gather medication for today, along with a bottle for water. I dread to think the state I may be in by 5pm. Onwards...