A couple of days ago I thought it was impossible for me to clean my filthy house. Seems I was wrong - all I needed to do was put on an (admittedly on sale) Alannah Hill dress, a full face of makeup and an enormous rose shaped ring. Bingo - cleaning happened organically.

I don’t know why, but I found myself in the bathroom, cleaning the very mirror I’d been discussing with my mother only a couple of hours before hand, then the hand basin, then putting away many, many clothes which had accumulated over God knows how long. Maybe it was the incredible metallic silver eyeshadow I was wearing (I love Revlon’s limited edition cosmetics), or my super funky Parisian hairdo, but I’m not going to question something so insanely out of character.

The only possible sour note is every muscle in my body being sore, courtesy of a three day split last week. Yesterday I crafted a program of weights and stretching to help my tragically impaired hip flexor, and it feels better than it has in months. Sure my quads and glutes are in agony, but the hip flexor’s great.

Now I have to go and hang out some washing and unload the dishwasher before I lose the vibe.

Today I’m loving: breakfast for lunch