I got my ballet bag back! Chums, I can’t even begin to tell you how completely and utterly downright awesome this is. Despite all my moaning that it was lit forever to my train company and it had vanished into their black hole of lost property!
On Tuesday I was sprawled on our staff room sofa reading David Starkey’s book about Henry VIII’s early days when my phone rang. It was the lost property office informing me they thought they’d got my bag. Not wishing to count my chickens and all that, I was tentatively excited then slipped away from work a bit early to collect my bag en route to class.
It was mine as I was gleefully reunited with my accumulated dance crap and so very, very happy/relieved as a result. See (please appreciate my beautifully bouffant immediately post bun hair):