So that was NOT ME you saw standing in my driveway yesterday at just a few minutes past noon, rain-soaked and cold, bedraggled and bewildered, clutching a damp pile of mail and scanning oncoming traffic for the locksmith. That was SO NOT ME. That was HER. My pajama-clad, frizzed out doppelganger.
Because I do not lock myself out of my house. I DO NOT. And I certainly don't do it while dressed in purple cropped PJ pants festooned with skulls,
And you can rest assured that I would never leave the house looking like I just stuck my finger in a socket. Because I wouldn't. Because I am way too classy. Because my mama done raised me the right way. But my evil twin? Well - she was raised by heathens and let's just say when she's having a bad hair day, she's not afraid to show it. To anyone. And in this case, the steady stream of busy lunchtime traffic shuttling past my house.
So yeah - clearly there was a giant case of mistaken identity yesterday. And to all of you who thought you saw ME in a moment of utter
Now excuse me. I need to take my daily dose of lithium.