Note to new readers: Message from your Mother is a series of 'tongue in cheek' letters written by Lilly to her daughter which are based 'sometimes too closely' on their most recent phone calls. The messages are written in the kind of irrational way that seems to come naturally to most mothers when it comes to the lives of their children.
It's just me. You may not recognise me but I will explain later.
This is just a quick message because I was lying in bed all night thinking about how you said you were signing up for Hot Yoga. I'm a bit flummoxed I have to say. Well, more than usual anyway. (I know you are going to be impressed with my use of that flummoxed word - well I saw it on the funniest website I have read for a long time called Wundurful Wurld - I have been busting to use it ever since. It's a true classic - yes, your mother is finally well read).
It didn't hit me at the time what you meant exactly about this Hot Yoga thing. In fact, I have come to realise that I don't understand a lot of what you say lately. I have already run through all the possibilities in my head and none of them are working for me. Whatever it is you are doing, it's bound to be weird and out there, right?
All I will say is this. Please, don't get burnt, will you? I'm not really worried because I know you are on the side of the angels not the beasts but...it's more about who else may be involved.
I just wish you would take up something I have heard of before like ballroom dancing, pole dancing or the like. Hot Yoga....I blame your father of course...his side of the family were real gypsies you know..
I mean if you are looking for cheap thrills go skydiving or dodge cars or something. No, forget I said that...I'm just anxious..
Also, while we are on the subject of odd things, you mentioned you were going to the gym to do your ironing. Yes, your ironing. I am still shaking my head. So you exercise there, sauna there, shower there, eat breakfast there, and now iron there. What kind of life is that? Just because they have a 'cool iron' there? It's a place of exercise and sweating not a place for domestic goddesses in training. You need to get a grip. Seriously. Next you will tell me you are sleeping there as well. There is a life outside the gym. And NO, it's not called the office.
On second thoughts, as long as the Hot Yoga is not done in the office or the gym, go for it. You need the change of scenery.
By the way, this is my new look. Subtle but stylish I think you will agree. I had no choice. My neighbour also told me I looked like the matriach of that crime family in the news at the moment. You know the one I mean. I thought you were just being a bit churlish when you said I was her double. Apparently you were right. I don't think I can afford to take any chances to be honest given she is on everyone's hit list. I honestly saw Madonna when I looked in the mirror not some hard nosed, bottle blonde crime figure. It's been a harsh reality to face I must say. I was scared to go outside and I found carrying a shovel in my handbag a bit heavy, hence the radical makeover. I thought I better show you the 'new me' in case you get a fright when next you see me. I am not entirely happy with the look given it is difficult wearing sunglasses 24/7 but I think I will easily blend into the crowd now don't you think?
PS. Just before I go I have to tell you about this Italian study they just released which says that Botox can easily travel to your brain. Some of us have less to lose than others though, so I still haven't given up on the idea. But, I wanted to let you know because your brain is your fortune (even though your face is equally as splendid) and therefore you cannot afford to take the risk to swap grey matter for wrinkle free skin, ok? A plump salary or a plump face, your choice. It's a risk I am prepared to take (when they invent injections without needles that is) but don't you take the chance when the temptation kicks in some time down the track. Too risky. Keep that to yourself though as it may give you a competitive edge in your line of work, if you get me.
19 days to Mother's Day, but who is counting....