I’ve got six hours to get everything packed before heading to the airport and gee it’s the last thing I want to be doing right now.  I’m being passive aggressive about it all and simply wondering around the house picking things up and then tossing them into my suitcase.  If you have the chargers for your kindle, iPhone and camera packed, what else do you really need for a trip back home to mum and dad’s?  Besides toddler gear and outfits for that tricky Perth weather that’s beachy by day and log fire-y by night.

My motivation is nowhere to be found this morning.  I suspect it’s gone on holiday early.  It’s already at the airport stocking up on magazines for the flight and Krispy Kremes to take as carry on.

Actually, I do know why my mind’s all over the place today.  It had to deal with a variety of household crises in addition to the work ones during this short week.  

Something happened to the power supply that saw us lose power to about a quarter of the power points in the house.  The very ones that powered the wifi and the kettle.  I only realised when I got home from work late on Monday and found the dishwasher flooded and the dishes looking a little worse for wear.  Flicking the switch in the mains box didn’t work so I had to then run around pulling phones and plugs out from one wall and then reconnecting them to the spare phone line and working set of power points. The electrician can’t come in until after Easter but it’s all good – SSG Manor is still connected to the rest of civilisation.  

Then I had to apply myself girl scout style to the matter of the kettle that didn’t work.  Enter the good old pot over the gas stove alternative.  Does it count as glamping, I wonder?  Probably not because the fridge and microwave still work.  I think you need two of the three to be out of action to meet glamping criteria.  

And then there was yesterday’s dramatic chain of events.  If there was one person in Sydney having a worse day at work than I was, it was our most immediate former Premier, Barry O’Farrell who resigned suddenly yesterday over a rather expensive bottle of Grange.  The word in the lifts at work is that there was probably much more to it than that.

But, the more pressing issue in the office was what was going to happen to the civic reception at the Opera House?  Who would be hosting the event in the Premier’s absence?  Several of us volunteered to taxi it into the city and I was more than happy to pop down to Westfield for outfits but sadly, the call was never put out to us.

The Duchess looked gorgeous in this yellow Roksanda Ilinic dress.  I love everything about it.  I knew I had yellow on my mind this week for a reason.

My Wednesday outfit wasn’t quite as glamorous.  Though it was a homage to the Duchess’s trademark casual cool off duty style.

Skinny jeans and wedges for my bottom half.