Imagine this - a 40 year old woman, out Christmas shopping, enters a shop. She spots something and instantly knows she must have it for herself. It's love at first sight. Elbowing innocent shoppers out of the way she grabs it, holds it aloft, marvelling at the fabric, the design, her luck at having found it. She rushes to the till and buys it immediately, without even checking the price.
What do you think she found? A Chanel bag? A pair of Manolos? Or, being 40, something by Cath Kidston (sorry Pam)? No, reader, none of those things. Because that 40-year old is me, and this is what I bought...
A pair of Moomin knickers! That's knickers, with Moomins on, for adults. They were in Top Shop, by the way - so clearly not aimed at quite this type of customer - but who cares? I haven't moved on culturally since the age of 9. Deal with it!
In other news, I completed my final day of stewarding the exhibition yesterday, and managed to stumble down the steps of the Crypt and twist my ankle. It's a fetching shade of green today. I was just pulling my tights down to inspect the damage, snivelling, when a woman came in to enquire about children's workshops.
What dramatic and embarrassing way will I injure my left foot next week? I can hardly wait to find out!
I've been spending far too long on my own. I just asked the cat if he knew where the remote control was. And waited for him to answer.