Garden Terrorist

I was furious and so frustrated that I resorted to tears last night. I got home from Comedy Girl's place last night. We had finished off a bottle of wine, had great girly chats and finally called it a night. I was exhuasted and just wanted to flop into bed.

As I got home I noticed that the lovely tree's I had bought and placed in the garden to be planted were not sticking above the wall. As I got closer I found my dog aka Garden Terrorist, full of compost. He had trampled and destroyed everything. Everything. One tree survived.

The only good that came out of this, was that he distributed 3 bags of compost for me. Fuck, I was upset. I burst into tears. There was no sign of the Jasmine (my favourite thing that would have been in my garden!) and there were only a few things that were salvageable. The rest? Destroyed. The Garden Terrorist is lucky to be alive.

I am going for a spray tan tonight and yes, I've had them before and they work brilliantly on my skin. I can't lose 10kgs by Saturday night's TV show, so I'm going to mask it with a tan . I had to exfoliate my body and not use cream, deodorants or anything of the sorts. I ran out of my exfoliater so I jumped out the bath left a wet trail all the way to my kitchen, grabbed my sugar bowl and nearly killed myself on the way back. Slippery feet and tiles apparently don't mix. Who would've thought.