Olympic standards

I would have gone out yesterday.  I had every intention of going to Putney to buy a mop (Oh my life is so exciting) but I got stuck in a world of ironing.  I dashed away all afternoon and felt absolutely whacked by the end.  I also meant to go swimming.  I put on my swimsuit in anticipation but just ended up doing a bit of breast stroke around the kitchen whilst chatting to Michael Phelps.  Imaginary friends take up so much of one's time.  Luckily Phelpsie didn't mind me cleaning up whilst we went over some of his medal successes.  I was hoping he might give one to me for my housework achievements.  "And the gold in the ironing event has been won by Mrs Smith for Great Britain."  There I would be on my rostrum proudly waving to the roaring crowd as the national anthem booms out. "Later in the week we can look forward to seeing this outstanding competitor in the kitchen floor washing and hoovering events - over to you in the studio, Sue."  Sue Barker then gives me a whole 5 minutes of praise, reshowing the event with different camera angles and bits in slow motion with a close up of my medal.

Mr Smith went fishing yesterday and caught a beautiful salmon, in Sainsburys.  We cooked and ate it last night; it was very good and I am still so full.  I might sink in the swimming pool but I have to go anyway as I am meeting Sharon Davis and Duncan Goodhew there for some imaginary private coaching.  I am so full I hope I don't sink during my swim.

Later this morning, before my mop buying, I am going to the hairdressers which is something I hate.  I like the colour bit but I don't like having my hair cut as I always think it's going to hurt.  Silly, I know, but when they come at you with scissors ... oh my God.  Anyway, I want a new hairstyle - I am considering bald then I can just plonk on a wig.  I remember a poor girl at Oxford called Roz who wore a wig.  Nobody knew until it came off in Jeremy Thingie's hand when he snogged her.  He was so dismayed he ran away then told someone in the strictest of confidence so by the next day the whole of Oxford knew.  At least any future prospective snoggees were better informed.

It's pouring with rain.  Maybe I won't go swimming after all.  I might cancel the hairdressers too.  I'll stay in and do some more housework ... oh but I need a new mop and a little rostrum for all that medal winning.