Mirror, mirror

The mind is a strange thing... And a bloody sneaky thing, too, sometimes...
This afternoon, I caught a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror (yes, I usually try to avoid it) and HOLY GUACAMOLE barely recognised myself.
I AM OLD, people. SERIOUSLY OLD.
And you can tell.
In my mind, I usually reckon I look just about OK. Nothing special, but OK. And then I see myself and realise that I actually spend most of my time looking like an alien-witch with wild, uncontrollable hair, hopeless skin (no zits, just very white) and clothes that probably don't suit me half as much as I think they do.
No wonder D rarely compliments me. No wonder, either, that the only comparisons he makes of me to someone famous are so unflattering.
You know, "Nicole Kidman", or "Julieanne Moore" would be nice (people you could realistically say "look like me" even if it would still be a HUGE stretch of the imagination - obviously, I'd quite like "Angelina Jolie" or "Monica Bellucci", too, but that's just impossible). Instead, I get "Winston Churchill" (may have been a great wartime leader, but he certainly wasn't known for his dashing good looks. And he was a MAN) or "Louis XIV" (another MAN).
Do I really look like these two MEN? I don't think so. I think it's just an indictment of what D really thinks of me (probably not very much most of the time).
That said, I was horrified by my appearance today (though I still refuse to believe I look like a man). My hair! My teeth! My legs (once so shapely)! My weight (not fat, but definitely a) fatter than before and b) fatter than I'd like)!
And summer's around the corner, with all THAT implies (bare legs, short sleeves, SWIMSUITS God help me).
I'm not sure what to do.
I guess not going to bed at 3 am would be a good idea, and probably eating less cr*p would help, too.
But you know, it's just not that easy. It's 2.20 am already (so 3 am looks like a reality once again) and I'm just aching to go and chow down on a bowl of cereal or something.
Those dreaded Midnight Munchies.
Then, all I have to do is go brush my teeth without catching sight of myself in that treacherous bathroom mirror. Perhaps, that way, I'll manage to get to sleep believing I look cute and sexy in my flannel pyjamas!
Now, where did I put those chocolate biscuits...

Toowhit - munch - toowho

My lifestyle (if you can call it that) is now so seriously f*cked that I'm more or less an owl. So you can imagine how great I felt this morning when I had to take C and L to school while D helped a friend shoot a trailer for a short film. Yes, ab fab is exactly how I felt.
That said, by the time I got home, my smugness at being part of the "already been out and it's only 9.30" brigade meant that I felt OK.
But of course I fell asleep on the sofa for an hour this evening (and would have slept this afternoon, of course, except that it's Wednesday, the day I spend all afternoon with L as she doesn't have school).
So, I woke up around 10 pm and felt quite perky (as usual - exhausted, grouchy, ready to kill anyone who bugs me at 7 pm, Perky Pig by 10...), so settled down to work. And work I did.
And hey, whaddya know. It's almost 3 am. And all I feel like doing is surfing the web, reading blogs that make me laugh and cry (sometimes simultaneously - like this one) and EATING HUGE AMOUNTS OF CR*P. Oh, the cr*p I can put away...
Cheese - yum. Chocolate biscuits - munch, munch, wipe the crumbs off my desk. Bread and butter - mmm, use a nail file to get the crumbs out of the keyboard, the list goes on, like some kind of bulimic's fantasy.
Maybe I'm bulimic, now that I think of it.
Or depressed (always a possibility, and one D's pretty sure of, as HE KEEPS TELLING ME, like I want to hear that).
Or quite possibly just insane.
Talking of which, haven't watched Zac in Hairspray for a while... Never have the time, what with working all night, sleeping during the day, childcaring in the evenings... But might try and fit in a quick sequence tomorrow morning. So scrummy, young Zac...
And now that I'm 39 (God help me) - as of last Sunday, thank you very much, had a lovely day - I really am old enough to be the delightful Zac's mother.
Maybe I should stick to fantasising about Brad and Johnny - at least they're older than I am.