No, really, my Auntie Ba had a dog called "Sod It". It's real name was Skye and it belonged to her son, Rob, who was away in the army. So it lived with Ba, who lived in the very posh town of Winchelsea.
Completely losing the plot for a moment there.
I am getting to the "Sod It" point of my life. The veneer of manners and politeness drummed in to me from an early age has begun to crack and curl at the edges. The natural caution about preserving my health and beauty (such as it is) have been cut, burnt and poisoned out of me these last couple of years. There is no disguising the toll it has taken on my skin and nails and ankles. And let's not talk about the hair.
So I went for a short dip in the pool this afternoon. My skin is now blotchy and thin and dry as sandpaper but do you know what? I just don't care.
I shall have a glass of Sauvignon Blanc this evening and a Silk Cut and eat no fruit at all and gorge on cheesecake for supper.
I shall not answer the phone and I shall say No to people more and not put the bills in date order for the VAT return. In fact, I think I shall give up filing entirely.
I shall stop trying to couch my interactions in polite enthusiasm but say what I think and then walk away.
Because I can.