I don't know whether it's Monday-itis, or just being a grouchy cow, but this morning I absolutely meant it when I uttered that famous female phrase: I simply don't have a thing to wear.
Now of course I don't mean it literally - women rarely ever do (except the nudists I guess). But I seriously hate my work clothes. One look at the shirts and tops hanging in the closet will tell you that I can't decide whether to be corporate or trendy, casual or sloppy. I somehow managed to have simultaneously covered all possible fashion bases.
And so I'm resolved to get out this coming weekend and find some new items to jazz up my ensemble, and lift my mood.
Of course it's times like this though that I wish I had a work uniform - if they're cute, they make things so much easier. But they are rarely, if ever, cute. So scratch that idea.
And I am in love with my new black patent leather pumps and so I don't really want to get rid of them. But admittedly they came close to being pitched this morning when one of them flew off my foot into the middle of a pedestrian crossing. I nearly cried as I hobbled through the puddles in front of a bustling rush period crowd to go and fetch it. I am not sure how loudly I was cursing (thanks to my ipod blasting in my ears) but I'm sure my fellow office workers were treated to a couple of gems from my vocabulary!
Let's just hope that between now and the weekend, I can commit to a fashion style, find everything in the one store - in my size - and have no line up at the fitting rooms or registers where I'm ready to rock & roll.
Clearly I am not a girly-girl when it comes to shopping.