My melting moments

I'm quite proud of how I've tidied up my act a bit since I've been in "open house" mode.
Dishes don't get left on the sink overnight, nor clothes and towels on the floor, nor dog poo on the ground. Everything in its place. I've even taken to cleaning. Windex is my middle name. The ironing basket is empty (except for six odd socks). The kitty litter is fresh.
I'll never become one of those perplexing people who irons sheets and undies, but I am pleased that I've overcome my slovenly ways, or at least overcome the slovenly ways of the people I live/d with.
The keeping up appearances has even extended to my own self (most days), when I've taken a bit more care with accessories and lippy. My eyebrows have definition. I've stopped biting my nails. I have a swagger.
But I let the team down tonight. And had to eat four Melting Moments as a result.
My own personal melting moment happened at Coles (which I still call B-Lo) at Elermore Vale. Out-of-towners can get a mental image based on its proximity to, and shared patronaged with, the Shaft Tavern. All class.
 I'd come home from netball, had a cuppa, and needed to restock the larder. Feeling the chill in the air, I swapped my free-flowing leopard print overshirt for a purple tracky top, and my caramel wedges for caramel uggs. The jeans were the same, but didn't look it. My hair was a bit on the tired side, and I had panda eyes. But, it's only Bi-Lo, right?
Well, I pulled up, and began my saunter in (its hard to saunter in uggs) when next to me appeared a vision in black and white.
Tall, slender, sunnies a la alex perry, she wore a white woolen trench, cinched ever so at the waist (she had a waist!), black skinny jeans (the stylish kind, jodhpurs almost) and black riding boots. She carried a white leather bag, just right for ducking to the shops, and an iPhone in a zebra striped case. There was the right amount of bling, the right amount of blush, and a hint of gloss to the pout.
She was not young, but she was beautiful.
She turned heads.
I did not.
I dragged my uggs through the isles, bought the Melting Moments, forgot the teabags, and fled for home. The first three Moments didn't hit the sides. The fourth made me feel sick.
Note to self: tomorrow, try harder.