So I am worn out. I have shopped until I dropped. And as I am such a big baby, it only took two stores to tire me.
I dislike those loud, twenty-something chain stores that pipe irritating music through obnoxiously large speakers in an effort to make patrons feel hip enough to be shopping in there. And I really dislike those stores that have more shop assistants than customers, and every one of those shop assistants absolutely have to put something away right where I am standing at the particular time.
And despite my hefty dislike for both of these things, you're getting an accurate picture of the two stores I patronised tonight.
So my go-to strategy was to try on a shirt, assess the size I needed, and then proceed to grab armloads of the same style shirt in different colours and then get the hell out of there. Fast.
Needless to say I have to take half of the crap back. So the warm flush of capitalism may well be overcoming me, or it could well be the Italian red wine I am quaffing in an attempt to recover.
Yep, it's the wine.