Shit, I’ve found something that actually does what it says on the bottle. Man, I was so relaxed, when I flopped down on the sofa in my jammies, book in hand (Flu by Wayne Simmons), I bloody well zonked out. It wasn’t due to the book content either, because I was enjoying the book a lot. No, it must have been the bubble bath. Two hours later, I woke, only to stumble to bed, muscles so relaxed I was like an elasticised freakazoid, and slept the night away. This happened every time I used the bubble bath. So, well done Radox, for creating something that actually works. Whether it only works when the two are combined, I don’t know…
Well, I’m writing this Monday night, having told myself I needed one of those bubble baths again because today…well, let’s just say Christmas gift shopping so isn’t my bag, you digging me? I was okay at first. We arrived in Banbury—yes, the place famed for the ditty Ride a Cock Horse—and went into the main town. Oh, I was in Heaven in Poundland, as usual, and forced myself NOT to buy any scented bloody candles, and I was all right until we got to Tescos.
Tescos is a supermarket, but the one in Banbury is like Wal Mart, where you can buy all manner of things not food related. Both Hubby and myself needed a wee when we arrived—the cold weather’s started playing havoc with our bladders, God bless us—and off we went to the toilets. I entered to the stench of…shit.
Well, that’s not something I like enduring, is it? Could have done with a scented candle that worked right then, I can tell you. Or even a doused match. All three cubicle doors were locked, and I wondered which door hid the shitter from view. I mean, someone in there was doing a number two, that much was very clear, and it wasn’t pleasant. Not that shit ever is, but you know what I mean.
Have you ever noticed in public toilets, when someone’s doing the stinky in them, the air is so close and thick it isn’t funny? So I’m standing there, trying not to breathe, and another lady walked in and gave me a funny look. I was almost tempted to tell her that no, I hadn’t farted, that it was someone in one of those cubicles who had made the offending stench, but instead I gagged and left the toilet. Hubby was outside. He hadn’t stayed to go to the toilet either. Yep, someone had shit in there too. Either that or the place had serious drain problems.
What was it this morning with the good people of Banbury? Had they all had a raging hot curry the previous night and, unable to hold it, saved their bodily emissions for the Tescos toilets?
So, walking around Tescos, braiding my damn legs because, yeah, I needed to pee badly, I started to get naffed off. It wasn’t that busy either. I noticed my hip started playing up like it did in Ikea last week, and I’m finally coming to accept I’m going to have a hip problem when I’m older. Joy upon sodding joy. Once home, I dashed to the loo then quickly wrapped the presents, did a few things online, then poured myself some cheap drink I’d bought earlier today. I don’t usually drink but felt I needed some alcohol. Deaden the old nerves. Now, I also bought it because I remembered it was the first drink I got drunk on when I was, uh, thirteen. It comes in these small bottles, and it’s this cherry wine stuff. Now I know why red wine makes me gag just by smelling it. I poured the cherry wine, sniffed it and…wanted to barf. I took a sip then handed it to Hubby. He’s a red wine fan, so he’s drinking it now, but hell, keep it away from me.
That’s my relaxation method out the window, so I need one of those bubble baths…
It’s Tuesday now. We woke to SNOW! I didn’t get the bubble bath. I had things to do online, bits and bobs in the house to tidy, so by the time I got tired I just wanted to flake out. And we have to go out and do all that gift shopping business again because we didn’t get it all yesterday. Great. Just bloody great. Mind you, it will give me the chance to wear my new hat.
Now, I’ve always been one of those people who just don’t wear hats. I feel a complete prick in them. I’ve always braved the cold and suffered. However, yesterday I gave in and bought a hat in Poundland. One that is all the rage in my small part of the world and looks something like this:
Okay, when wearing it I feel like a descendant from a Swedish skiing family or something, but it’s warm, and yesterday I didn’t care what I looked like because we were nowhere near anyone we knew (hahah!) You heard that, right? Near no one we knew… Until we spotted my oldest daughter in Tescos car park—she works in Banbury. She looked at me in horror and said, “I can’t believe you’re wearing that hat! Are you that cold?”
(Oh, I forgot to mention, Hubby has one too. His is brown, mine is baby pink. And my youngest daughter's is red, and my younger boys have one too, black and grey. So we’re a family of the freak hat. If we all go out together we’re going to look damn weird, but hey, it warmed my ears, all right?)
Anyway, Oldest Daughter is a fashion freak, but these hats are trendy, damn it! Or are they only trendy on anyone under 20? Am I finally going to have to give in and not wear trendy stuff? I mean, she made it clear I looked a dork…but she wears EAR MUFFS! Maybe I ought to buy a pair of those too and waltz around in gear too young for my age, just cos…
So! Questions from today’s post (you don’t have to answer all of them. I won’t hold it against you…much. Joking!):
1. Do you wear something considered “too young” for you? Yeah? What is it?
2. Do you care what others think if you do wear an item some people think you shouldn’t?
3. Ever had a product, like my bubble bath, that actually does what it says?
4. Ever had a stinky toilet scenario?