In the time it took for me to swing both the bathroom and bedroom door open to let myself through, Irene had already beaten me to the downstairs dining room.
Was awfully glad no one was keeping track of my whereabouts. I wasn't particularly keen on having to explain why I took the longest to prep myself out of everyone here.
Like what are you, a girl or something? Can't find your eyeliner? Ran out of lipstick? Mascara running?
Kay, now I'm just being sexist. Apologies.
Could smile, shrug my shoulders, and go with the classic 'brush it off' approach, but I don't think I'd be able to find it in myself to put on my acting shoes at the moment… especially not after what I just experienced not even five minutes ago.