It ain't Paris, but it will do for now....

For reasons that defy simple, short and sensible explanation, I am getting ready to head home from work very early today and indulge in two things that I have wanted to do for a very long time.

The first is to shop for a very expensive, very pretty, and very magical (ie supportive without looking like steel girders) bra. One with no purpose what-so-ever (ie not maternity or nursing) other than to enhance where enhancement is need, reduce where reduction is needed, and lift spirits along with…well, you can fill this part in yourselves.

The second is to try making pulled pork. On the bbq. With a spicy rub and sweet, sticky, spicy sauce to mop onto it. Accompanied by heaps and heaps of coleslaw in a ridiculously fattening creamy dressing. This alone should kill about 4 hours of time and about 6 weeks of a regime of early morning walks and one martini evenings.

Yup. Lingerie and pulled pork. These are the things that will make me happy today. Not world peace, just lingerie and bbq pig. I’d hang my head in shame to be so shallow but the image of shredded pork on a floury, fresh roll with creamy coleslaw, the sauce dripping down onto my plate – and of course, of my newly swaddled chest – just keep over-riding all sense of proportion. And I may just have a second martini tonight…