Am 38+3, and booked for an elective CS the day after tomorrow due to major placenta praevia. Am somewhat anxious, suffering from pregnancy brain, melting in the heat and all-round a bit out of touch with reality.
Spent the morning so far lying in bed, in a tshirt which now covers not much more than my boobs, under the fan.
The doorbell rang, and, without even thinking, I got up out of bed, went downstairs and answered it. It was the Ocado man. I stood there, in just the tshirt, my hairy fanjo on display (for clarity, one of the items in my order is VEET) to the entire neighbourhood without even realising.
To his credit, Ocadoman did not bat an eyelid, although he certainly wasn't in the mood for chatting and was in and out of the house very quickly!
I only realised once I had shut the door.
And now I am mortified. AIBU to think the only practical solution to this is to get immediate facial reconstructive surgery, assume a false identity and leave the country forever? What ON EARTH must that man be thinking?