There are several problems with my face, not least of which is that I look so bloody miserable all the time. Honestly, I’m usually smiling inside. A nice woman stopped me in the street on Sunday to tell me that she never looked very happy either. We were kindred spirits, she said, because she, like me, had a resting not-happy face.
She turned out to be a vicar, and said that when she did manage a smile, her congregations were very relieved and pleased. Nice. While I don’t have a congregation of my own, I knew what she meant. But still I think it’s time to change my face. Not with the help of a surgeon, you understand – I just need to give my countenance a bit of a lift.
