Some people I know are grown-ups. They have proper jobs and pay tax on time and donate blood regularly and know about superannuation.

They presumably have tidy bedrooms and clean cars and they enjoy cooking and plan things on weekends and go to gym regularly. They do their washing and FOLD THE CLOTHES IMMEDIATELY AFTERWARDS, and, probably they are all wearing two socks right now that are the same.

I am wearing, so far as anyone can tell, a skirt with stockings. This is a trick. I dislike stockings. they make me feel like I'm not who I am. Like I'm sitting an exam for a subject I didn't attend the classes for. Like I'm a size twenty wearing a size four. Like I'm a Bloodhound pretending to be a poodle. So the plan was to avoid wearing stockings and instead to wear nice leggings with warm socks and still look semi respectable while at work. This went very well. For a time.

However, due to the fact that I did not do my washing and fold the clothes immediately afterwards and in fact the clothes remain in a huge pile on my floor, it was a miracle that I found any socks this morning, let alone two that were the same colour. Having two socks that are the same colour is a poor substitute for having your life in order, though. I have thus been walking around with two black socks, one of which is knee-high and one of which PRETENDS to be kne--high and then slips back down as soon as you start walking. Walking has been a bit of a feature of my day.

Hence: girl with two black legs stands up, takes a few steps thus revealing one black leg and one leg sporting a huge white band of luminscent skin (satellite images reveal that you can in fact see my legs from the moon). Girl stops, yanks up recalcitrant sock, continues on. Stops. Repeats.

My attempts to cheat at being a grown-up have failed. One should never pretend to be someone one is not, which is why I was trying not to wear stockings in the first place. Perhaps I should wear a tracksuit everywhere and just be honest about it. At least then I'd be totally hot.