I know I'm an idiot, but I think something in that £101 shopping bag *might* just be the thing that changes my life. When I was younger, I genuinely used to think that 'going on a diet' would also miraculously make me taller, as well as skinnier.
This morning I walked by the river in London silently composing a mournful eulogy for the olive green bobble hat I lost on a Friday night at L'Escargot over a month ago. I'm suddenly, inexplicably - or maybe slightly explicably - furious about it.
When I'm depressed, my ancient old-school self-indulgent blog wakes up and also becomes one big elaborate subtweet.
When my little sister tells me to do something, I do it. She is always right.
I'm still genuinely, properly sad that Chanel discontinued my all-time favourite lipstick (Egerie).
There's something fun about crying in public behind sunglasses in broad daylight. Crying in close proximity to another person, though (whether family member, friend, sex partner or therapist) - that's a different story.
I wonder what sort of new hat I should get to replace the one I lost. Maybe I need a new gigantic cardigan as well.
Also I should probably buy some velvet knickers.
But I must live off store cupboard rations this week (see: £101 spent on useless supplements).
I cried at a busker playing 'My Heart Will Go On' on an accordion earlier this week. Unfortunately I was not wearing sunglasses. I think I am just tired.