7 Weeks to Go, and All’s Well…

This week, I’ve had the week off work (it’s not a secret, they know about it and everything).  Usually I would have spent at least 1 of the days purchasing many pretty things from various establishments that sell women’s clothing, but as that’s still technically off limits, I had to find somehing else to do (I say technically off limits due to the situation outlined below).  After reading a ridiculous amount of books, attempting (and failing) to clean out my car boot (ok, I’ll be honest, I didn’t try THAT hard), and trying to make my peace with Jeremy Kyle (who still hasn’t forgiven me for saying, back in January, that I don’t love him as much as I used to – he can hold such a grudge), I decided to drive into town – officially it was to buy a present for my friend’s little girl (who is 3 weeks old and so cute and tiny that I tried to put her in my handbag when I saw her on Thursday.  I don’t think that I’ll be invited back.  On another note, their house, with a newborn, is still tidier than my bedroom, even though I’ve just tidied.  Twice.  Hmm.), unofficially it was to have a look in Primark to see if the yellow dress that I’ve seen in no less than 4 magazines is in-store yet (I can’t help it, even though I can’t buy clothes, I still like to look at them.  And stroke them.  That’s normal, yes?) but it was not to be.  The dress was not there.  I’m simultaneously pleased and disappointed.  Instead, I bought the cutest polka dot dress for my friend’s Little One (which I wish that they did in adult sizes).  This is where the technicality comes in – buying something from a clothes shop doesn’t count if it’s for someone else does it?  Especially if it’s for a child?  (Yes, I’m using a child to justify myself.  I’m ashamed.)

On the way to and from town, I couldn’t help but notice that other people’s driving is pretty rubbish.  I’ve recently taken to having conversations with other drivers (in my head – if I do it out loud, people start muttering nasty accusations about ‘road rage’, all of which are totally unjustified).  I say conversations, what I actually mean is that I put some words into the mouths of other drivers;

‘Indi-cay-tors, you say?  Nope, never heard of them.  Are you sure that my car has them?  What, ALL modern cars come with them?  No, I’m sorry, but that just doesn’t sound right – I’ve never used an indi-cay-tor in my life!’

Well, yes, I’d gathered that.

‘When a car’s turning left at a roundabout, 3 junctions before the one that I’m coming out of, it means that I can go?  Are you sure?  I mean, I know that it’s  going to be nowhere near my car, but I think that I’ll wait here for the next 12 minutes, just to make sure that nothing’s coming.’

Brilliant, it’s not as if I’m running late or have anywhere to be or anything.

‘You have brakes. It doesn’t matter if I pull out in front of you and then proceed to drive at 20 miles an hour under the speed limit along the road.  It’s fine.’

Yes, you’re right – it’s totally acceptable.  As will the sharp poke with a stick that I will give you if I ever bump into you again.

Apart from these imaginary conversations, this week hasn’t been too eventful.  Which has been brilliant.  Shopping ban wise, I’ve been pretty good, and not had one urge to ask my sister to swap £20.00 for a Primark dress, possibly because she bought me a dress instead of an Easter egg.  As did my parents – they’re the best.  Or it might be that I’ve received some more things from BigWardrobe, (including a lovely black Warehouse dress), or it’s (more likely) because I can eat chocolate again.  And biscuits.  And sweets.  And I can most certainly eat chocolate biscuits.  I’ve ruined the hard work of the last 4 weeks in the last 4 days, but it was so good that I don’t even care…

And, not that I’m counting, but 7 weeks to go…I may have to get a calendar, so that I can cross of the days (yep, I’m just that cool)…

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