Shopping.

Nothing ruins my good mood more effectively than shopping for clothes. I may start out with a fairly good attitude, but as soon as I hit that dressing room, I become either very irritated or very depressed. Which I, inevitably, take out on those who go shopping with me (mostly my mother, because she’s the one who pays for it.) So while others can spend a whole day shopping for clothes, I like to spread the shopping over many days. This also affects my mother, since she is a kind of person who likes to get things done, preferably in the shortest amount of time possible. So, a word of advice: Do not come with me when I am shopping for clothes. Drag me with you shopping, by all means, I am very patient that way. As long as I don’t have to try on clothes, even I can survive a day shopping for clothes.

I had yet another traumatic shopping experience today. This one involved bikinis, which is a very sensitive and hated territory. To mum: Sorry for being such a pest when we went looking for bikinis. I really am sorry for snapping at you, when it was the bikini I felt like beating into submission. And I’ll try to be less dismissive next time, though I doubt I’ll actually succeed.

I ended up buying a skirt, one singlet, and one shirt. No bikini, though, which means that sometime next week, I’ll have to embark upon another endless tour of the city, trawling the shops for a bikini that will not only fit, but also look well.

Damn.