I Spend A Lot Of Time...

Looking under my eyes. Rings enrage me. Sunken black half moons and I'm impossible to be with. Puffiness and the cucumber gets used

Looking at my ear size. Older we get bigger they get. Lobes seem to be swinging more.

Shaving my chin. Plucking is for brave women. Black stubble doesn't sit well with baby pink lipstick. Could work with red though.

Wondering about flab. Fifty-three years of sugar is telling. But sugar is my answer to everything. If excess flesh pops up above waistbands I push it down with a Mars bar.

Pressing cysts. Arthritic fingers have them. I tried bursting mine with a pin. Just hurt. Now my cysts are pure party pieces. Nothing captivates people more than fleshy mounds.

Whitening teeth with Pearl Drops. The shade guide is rubbish. I want my money back. But I suppose dark white is preferable to custard yellow.

Standing very erect against a wall. Terrified of rounded shoulders. Bad posture adds years. Being erect gets one noticed.

Worrying, talking and thinking about sleep. Feel and act like a drunk on less than eight hours. Spend countless waking hours wondering about broken sleeping hours

Inspecting legs. Perfect legs should have three gaps. One at the ankles, one at the knees and one between the thighs. I'm satisfied on all three counts.

Improving my mind. Cleaners should never neglect their inner selves. Books of Quotes make better bed time reading than How-To-Get-Rid-Of-Stains type books. Bugger that.

Worrying about my love life. Kissing should be hot not lukewarm. Cuddles should break ribs. Thrusting should always be imminent.