I am sad to say goodbye to the sunshine.
It left me this morning after the briefest of visits, of which I only enjoyed two days. But what a delightful weekend it was.
Spent on the beach catching the drips off an ice cream before it makes a sticky mess over your hands and turns the cone to mush. Who'd have thought we'd be eating ice-cream in March, let alone watching it melt?
Now I am no pessimist, just a realisitc optimist, but I think we shall be done with sunny intervals until at least May. Once we've got our rainy season over and done with - look forward to it April, I really do!
But when that sunshine arrives, and believe me it will "....burn our eyeballs out...." when it does (to quote Papa Dodd), I shall be out there enjoying every second of it. At least, every second that doesn't fall between 10am and 6pm, monday through to friday when I shall be in a climate controlled office, with two green plants and windows that won't open. And because no one will be able to see the computer screens, the blinds will be shut. So I won't even notice the beautiful sunshine and bright blue skies.
But I am hoping the sun shows its lovely face sooner rather than later, for I am really quite bored of my winter wardrobe. Now don't get me wrong, its brilliant come the middle of September, as the nights get cooler, to be able to change out of my array of flip flops and into my lovely brown leather boots and beautiful camel coloured cape (courtesy of Frank, thank you very much!) but now I would quite like to pop those flip flops back on my feet and bask in a bit of warmth.
In preparation for the Indian summer that I have been assured we shall be having, I have begun to build my 2011 Spring/Summer wardrobe.
I have scoured the pages of Vogue and Elle. I have "ooohed" and "aaaahed" over beautiful lacey designs at Dolce and Gabbana and the neon pallette of Jill Sanders and then held my breath as I look at price tags. To be honest, I don't why I even hope to find something within my price budget - which for the record is Null, because I am desperately saving my meagre pennies for a summer holiday.
But all the searching and bookmarking is particularly helpful when locating replica designs - AKA cheap clothes.
There are some excellent copycats in the shops (Hennes, Zara and Topshop - you are superstars) ready for the sunshine, but unfortunately I haven't been able to peruse these mecca's of fashion. So I resort to the online eqivalents.
Online shopping doesn't quite create the same level of satisfaction - you can look but you can't touch!
And ladies, we all know how much we like to pick things up, look them over, make a face of judgement and A) retain for trying on or purchasing purposes or B) return to the rail and continue to explore.
But you don't get to do this.
If, like me, you're a "try-er on-er" then your online basket grows and grows (p.s never look at the basket total. Ever.) , and then you whap out the little plastic saviour. The "Yipee, I got free delivery" completely justifies the hammering the plastic got and so you await a mammoth delivery. Then you think about how much you spent and you start to panic. "It's okay" you say to yourself "I'll send half of it back"
But the packages arrive, and as sad as it is to admit it... your heart skips a bit and the adrenaline starts to pump. Brand new. With tags. Zips that work. That lovely new smell. And without the "I've been through the washing machine more times than I care to think" look. You immerse yourself in them.
You try it all on and, much to your (faux) disappointment, you like everything. You can't possibly send it back. You have to wear the biker jacket with the cute floral summer dress, because the dress won't look right otherwise. And you need the dress for the day at the races, that you are sure you will be going to this year.
So for the next few days you walk about in a new clothes bubble. Relishing in the compliments and the feeling of complete and utter ... happiness.
And then your credit card bill arrives.
This was me.
So ... I did a very brave thing on Friday. I took a sharp pair of scissors. Removed my shiny pink mastercard from the 'emergency' pocket in my purse and under the watchful eye of Glam Maggie at work, began to cut.
My mastercard still exists. In tiny little pieces in my purse. I haven't had the heart to bin them yet.
And now it is most defintely winter in my life.
Contrary to popular belief, I do not have a shopping problem.
And even if I did, I could stop at any time.
But just not yet.