Wednesday 19 December 2012

The one in which I locate my shopping gene

The year is coming to an end. December arrived before I was ready and will leave too quickly.

The ferris wheel is spinning faster than I'd like and although I want to climb off, there is too much to be done. I haven't sent any Christmas cards, or bought any food or even figured out what we're doing for the holidays. And still the relentless parade of freelance deadlines passes in front of me, trailing frustration and a whiff of resentment in its wake. What I need is a bloody great stick to poke in the spokes of routine.

And so the universe delivered. Yesterday a colleague emailed to ask if I'd like to go with at lunchtime to check out a massive cosmetics/fragrance sale that was being held in a giant warehouse on the waterfront. I wasn't holding out much hope and agreed more as a favour to her. But it was fun, and loud and busy and I rediscovered how much I love me a bargain. And trying on 18 different perfumes, and buying none. And cajoling a fellow shopper into forfeiting the last Berry Sorbet lipstick. And forgetting about life for a while.

Anita, you would have been proud...

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