The Supermarket gets me every time.
No matter how thoroughly you plan, and no matter how firm you believe you're being with yourself, you will always emerge from the supermarket with a bag full of crap. It's guaranteed.
Fact number one: I don't require 12 pork pies.
Fact number two: Thanks to the miracle of 'buy one get one free' (free! It's FREE, dammit!), I have 12 pork pies in my fridge.
And so it goes on. In the fruit juice aisle, they offer you 'Any three for...', followed by the statement 'this means you will save...', followed by a pleasingly large number. But the truth is that you will save even more by only buying the one carton you were intending to get in the first place! I'm just too weak-willed, and will inevitably decide I need three cartons. Or perhaps six?
I read somewhere recently that to have too much choice is to sow the seeds of confusion. Yes, absolutely! Don't make me choose between 24 varieties of jam, I just can't cope. Panic buying for me doesn't mean going home with eight loaves of bread. It means going home with a bag of olive & oregano focaccia because the pressure was just too much.
In other news, Sparkle our completely dotty cat has started to explore downstairs on a vaguely regular basis. This is progress. She has also decided she loves to claw the rug in our bedroom at 6am. This is NOT progress. I think it is purely an attention seeking device, because once one of us sits up to tell her off she will stop scratching and purr contentedly. Job done.
