28 minutes to go…

So, at the start of writing this blog, there are a mere 28 minutes to go until I can shop again.  However, I’m not sure that I can.

As I’m sure that I’ve mentioned before, Darling Sister’s birthday falls the day before mine, so today, she, Lovely Mum and my good self went into Cambridge for a bit of shopping (I did not partake in any of the said shopping for myself.  Lovely Mum and Darling Sister very kindly didn’t buy me presents [apart from my beautiful playsuits] so I was allowed to choose a few things today.  The few things turned out to be;

3 x dresses (1 Dorothy Perkins one, that I had my eye on ages ago, and was in the sale.  Whoop, and indeed, whoop, 1 New Look one and 1 Primark one.  All lovely)

2 x cardies (both Primarni – or, if my bag from my lovely work colleagues is to be believed, Prada)

1 x shoes (pair – Primarni – brown peep toe ones  sound horrible, actually look very pretty)

And, what with there being 3 of us, and therefore 3 very different styles, we went into a LOT of shops.  I mean, really a lot.  We were walking around for 6 whole hours, no time to stop for lunch (we were SHOPPING!)

My feet still hurt.  I’d forgotten how labour intensive shopping could be (and I really don’t wish to be rude about myself, but it’s beyond me how I only started losing weight once I’d stopped shopping – I mean, I must have walked for miles further than me and The Boy walk on an average weekend.  Strange).

Also, I don’t get shops clothing sizes.  I can just about cope with the idea of different shops treating size 12s differently (Next, for example, employ vanity sizing, and cut their clothes a little more generously.  New Look do NOT.) but I really object to the same shop (Primark, I’m talking about you) having completely different sizing on the same item (long story short, I tried a dress on in 2 different prints – one oranges, which sounds horrible but looked nice, and one floral.  The floral one made it into my shopping bag, the oranges one wouldn’t even attempt to go over my chest.  But I’m not bitter).  It’s a bit of a pain in the bum.

Ah, why am I fibbing to you?  I know that you know that I know that we all know I’m going to be on as many sites as my browser allows by 00:00:01

But onto better things – Darling Sister had a lovely day, and I get to have a lovely day tomorrow.  I’m off on a mystery tour with the Bestie (the origin of all the cheesy puns we’ve been coming up with – my best one today was ‘how long until these start to grate’ – grated cheese, you see?!) and I’m very, very excited about it (last year, she took me to feed giraffes and look at lemurs at Africa Alive.  I wanted to live there, but the keepers said no.  Unreasonable.)

I’ll let you know how much cheese tasting is involved.  I may also start referring to her as Wallace.  I’ll be Gromit, as I’m the silent type…(plus, she looks better in green jumpers than I do.)

On another note, Happy Birthday Darling Sister, you’re the best and I love you gazillions! (And not just because you bought me something pretty – as I mentioned yesterday, I hardly ever like people for that reason alone.)

18 minutes….

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