For those who were offended by my self-indulgent report on how I spent yesterday morning, you may want to stop reading right now as I continued to have "me" time all day. Except I cannot stand my own company, so I recruited my big sister in for an afternoon of indulgence, shits and giggles.

You see the week that preceded was flawed. No I did not enjoy J's middle ear infection, trip to the doctor and subsequent ear-drum rupture. Nor did I enjoy picking up a rather nasty bug myself which made me bail on my beautiful Shepherd Centre Mum's on Saturday night. I rolled my ankle doing my soft sand sprints. The Wooglette's took despicable behaviour to a whole new level. A Parking fine combined with a nasty nasty blind zit on my chin sent me to the corner to rock back and forth. I was in a bad space.

Yes I know I bitch about Mr Woog quite a lot, but he hoicked up his socks on Sunday, threw the kids in the car and announced he was going to share their "charms"with his parents for the day and do not expect them back till dusk. I raced out to the car in my dressing gown and gave him an almighty pash - complete with morning breath. Next time I bitch about him, please remind me of this day. Thanks.

My big sis, who we shall call Little Nicky, arrived for the afternoon. We started off getting a blow job from Brad Ngata. Now Brad Ngata is to hair what Maggie Beer is to ice-cream. You just do not get any better. My Mrs Mangel instinct kicked in as I rolled out a billion questions. That man could not do my hair any faster I tell you, and was all over that GHD like a rotty on a 3 year old.. "Who is the fussiest Celebrity you have done?" tactfully remained unanswered. We did go on to discuss what he would do with Prime Minister Julia Gillard's hair (colour is good but she needs some length). I asked him whether I reminded him of Kim Kardashian, but the phone rang and it was Kylie Minogue. While he excused himself, I made the most of the complimentary gift cards sitting on the bench.

Yes I stole from Brad Ngata.

The fine print revealed One Gift Card Per Customer, so I cannot pay for my whole service with them. But if you are a Sydney Reader and want to look SWWWWWWWEEEEEEEET for a special occasion, email me your name and address and I will pop one in the post for you if you are one of the first 10 to respond. Tell him Mrs Woog sent you. He may recoil in horror, but at least he will remember who I was. mrswoog@hotmail.com. He is a genius.

Now the problem with my hair looking SO good, was that my face looked rank. It was then we decided to pop over to the Benefit Salon. Now I know I hark on about Benefit, but I am an unpaid but much dedicated unofficial Benefit Pusher. That shit just works. We put our hand up for the whole shebang. Wax. Tint. Falsies. Makeup. We had big plans to watch the Federal Election debate and we wanted to look our best for that skeeze Abbott.

Walking into their salon is like going to a Candy Shop. Ladies (and Badger) you simply must get there. The chicks that work there are amazing. They are called BeneBabes. I want to be a Benebabe but I do not think I can maintain such a pleasant demeanour for that long. No-one can be that perky on a Sunday afternoon! Not annoyingly perky, infectious perky, and there is a difference. And they are all so pretty. There was pink cupcakes and fun music. We left looking ten years younger and with a spring in our step.

Little Nicky and I then decided to take our new selves out for a (large) vodka, lime and soda at the nearby pub and observe what people without kids do to while their Sunday afternoon away. They drink beer, play pool and text people.

So with the fantasy day drawing to a close, we cabbed it back home via the bottle shop. Arriving through the door with a bottle of Cloudy Bay, the Woog Males did a double take. Yes kids, I know I look like a more attractive version of your mum, but yes, It is me.

Jammies on, Pizza Ordered, wine poured. Happy days. Watched 10 minutes of the debate (Julia, my friend Brad suggests you grow your hair out a bit..) before I fell asleep on the couch. It was just that exciting.

In conclusion, should you find yourself low low low, I suggest you follow the Mrs Woog's Pick- Me-Up-Sunday Routine. The only thing I would change is to have a different TV line up planned. I was not even pissed off when I had to drop the Mazda off this morning for a service and they shook their heads at the noise coming from the engine. Nothing is going to bring me down today. xo