Going Out

 Going out is strange now. 

Not that I'm doing anything overly special. Just dinner with friends down at Mordialloc. 

But it's strange going through the rituals and rigmarole of going somewhere other than your kitchen or the local takeaway. To drive 40 minutes to go out for dinner has been unheard of for weeks. 

But I'm going out for dinner. 

I've put on perfume (Juliette's got a Gun's Not a Perfume - I smell lovely)

There are earrings in my ears - actually hoopy ones, not just sleepers or plain studs. 

I'm wearing tights - I can't remember the last time I was wearing anything other than jeans, leggings or active wear. 

I've got a little black dress on - and Doc Martens. 

My eyeliner is winged. A double shot of mascara finishes the eyes - I don't wear anything more than that. No foundation. I don't need to wear a mask. 

And bright red lipstick, which is a bit silly, because I'll have to put on a mask at some stage in the evening and it will smudge. 

My hair is had been tamed a little. 

The cat will be fed before I hop in the car. 

And I know it's just dumplings down at Mordialloc, but after three weeks of being locked up - and even through we still have to wear masks outside for the next week, it feels good to be let out a little. 

Today's song: