The One Where I am Gross

I really do think scientists should come up with some use for snot. I mean, really, what is its point? There must be one surely? I have, in the last 48 hours, used at least 2 full loo rolls, a box of tissues, a six pack of Kleenex Balsam tissues, and have started on a new big pack of balm ones, and yet there’s no end to snot in sight. Oh my nose hurts. And my lips are sore from breathing through my mouth. I slept so badly last night, coughing and blowing my nose every two bloody minutes. The Verve were right, the drugs don’t work. Nothing works. I keep thinking I will wake up in the morning and feel back to normal again. No such luck. And I’m at that needing to sneeze but not able to sneeze lovely stage, and when you finally do sneeze oh, it is the best feeling in the whole world. For about 2 seconds, and then it starts again. I am well fed up.

However, my mum did manage to drag me out of the house today, and we went to Meadowhall. Meadowhall! Imagine. I don’t even like going there on good days. But I did need to buy some clothes, and shopping in London is horrific at best. Plus, Meadowhall has added an extension, and they have a Primark there now (ooooh). So I bought five jumpers for about the same price as one I got the other day at Mango. They are very nice and will do for work so that’s good. Plus we got in and out of Meadowhell in under an hour. A record for sure. And I got a great long scarf from Matalan. It’s lovely and soft and comes to my feet nearly. On Sunday Mum and Tony took me to KDA to get halogen bulbs for cheap (80p!), the most random shop you have never seen. Next to the lightbulbs were nail extensions. But it kind of drags you in with all the wondrous crap it has to behold. Me: ‘What kind of person shops here oooh look a sewing kit.’ See what I mean?

On our way home today we stopped off at my aunty’s, and we ended up watching old videos of the kids and us on Christmas Eve. Good God I never had a good hairdo. And I am a sloucher! And I got very excited about getting a Shaun the Sheep stuffed animal. It is the one and only time I have thought me and Russell look alike. We both have hideous huge specs on, and he was growing his hair long. From the side we looked like twins. Scary.

Back to London tomorrow night. I will feel better in the morning. I will.

More unusual girly behaviour

Things I have learned on my second shopping trip in two days: (I know, something must be wrong with me, maybe I should see a doctor?)

1. I hate Topshop. Hate it. Every time I go in there I come out feeling like shit. It’s full of overly made up girls wearing the latest fashion trend, taking their time and getting in your way. You can’t look around properly (especially not in your lunch hour) cos it’s so vast and I just wander about aimlessly for a lap, about turn and leave. Hate it. Or at least I hate the one on Oxford Street.

2. Miss Selfridge tells me I am a size 14 when every other shop I’ve ever been in in my life tells me I am a 12. Therefore, we can conclude, Miss Selfridge is evil.

3. Mango rocks. Not only did I find a black cardigan, I also found a black jumper and almost bought a grey jumper but it wasn’t quite right. Yes, marvel at the vast array of colours in my wardrobe.

4. Going shopping when wearing layers will leave you very hot and gross. Don’t do it.

5. Chocolate makes you feel good about most things, but not your back fat.

6. I love Fridays. (Not technically learned from shopping but hey, I felt it needed to be said.)

In Search of the Lesser Known Black Cardy and Other Stories

Girly stuff, so unlike me.

Gah. I made the mistake of going shopping on Oxford Street in my lunch hour. I always walk the back way off the main street as it’s less crowded and you can actually, you know, walk with some speed and not spend ages trapped behind large groups of tourists whose sole purpose on this Earth seems to be to get in your way and slow you down (deep breath). I had three main aims. Buy a black cardigan. Get a book from Waterstone’s. Buy a birthday card. I managed one.

Do nice, plain black cardigans not exist in this world anymore or something? Did I miss the memo and the going out of style end of the line sale? You can have big fluffy black cardigans, ones with frills, huge knitted things with roll top necks that look itchy, cropped ones (!!!), that come above your waist, ones without sleeves, ones with poofy sleeves, lacy ones (dear lord), but a plain, normal, none fancy black cardy I can wear for work instead of my one jumper I have at the moment that is presentable? Non. I have even looked on the internet. I may have to wander to the dreaded Top Shop tomorrow, cos I couldn’t be arsed today, but their website didn’t look very promising either. Can’t wait to go home and go to a proper shopping mall and look around with actual time to browse without some impatient person up my arse. Who would have thought Meadowhall could be so appealing? I am so desperate for new clothes.

And Waterstone’s didn’t have my book.

But I got the card at least.

Yesterday the mice man came in to have a look around at work and gave us a report on the situation. Yes we have mice. We also have wood worm, which, turns out, isn’t a worm at all, but a beetle in this case. Who knew? They are going to bring in steel wool and traps, which I’m a little worried about. Am I going to come in one morning and find a dead mouse sitting by my desk? I mean, I can deal with a lot of things first thing in the morning, battling my way to work, sleep deprivation, but mouse carcass? May tip me over the ever crumbling edge. Also, mice carry salmonella. Didn’t know that either. I really need to buy some antibacterial wipes because I don’t think the polish is going to cut it with the unseen but deadly mouse urine.

My life is oh so glamorous.