actually had a pants night.
The gig was good, but no-one that was supposed to come out would come out, and then hubby wouldn't let me go out on my own "dressed like that"
So ended up walking home crying into a takeaway. I cut a very pathetic figure on the Glasgow streets, after my one Baileys (figured was out of ketosis anyway, what the hell) carrying a polystyrene container filled with mystery meat.
Felt V sorry for myself.
But onwards and upwards as they say.