Hello there all. Readjusting to life in the grimier edges of our fair capital after the sylvan delights of North Yorkshire. Does rather set me wondering why it is I live here. Apart from work. And friends. And DP's work. And being near parents.
And diversity. The only non-white face I saw in four days in Harrogate was our coach driver, and he got asked for drugs while walking down the road. Because as he's black, he must be a drug dealer, yes?
Re plastic surgery, I have always been an ugly old boiler, which makes it easier to accept the passing of time. If I started having surgery to correct the bits I don't like, I don't know where I'd stop. I think that's the danger - you start with an eye lift, and that makes something else look off, so you get that done, and before you know where you are, you look like a trout in a wind tunnel.
As for careers, Grrrr. I'm having palpitations about starting again at 'my time of life' and having to put 50% of my earnings towards saving for my decrepitude. Unlike DP.