Now, I’m the first one to confess that I can become a little obsessed, neigh addicted, to certain “things” now and again.
Often these pan out to be mere “phases” in my ongoing strive to be aesthetically pleased (and pleasing – you gotta consider your audience).
I recall one particular stripey t-shirt phase circa 2012. At one point I counted twenty of said item in both drawers and wardrobe; scattered and apparently reproducing at speed.
At some point though, I forget how or why (perhaps there was an intervention) this phase came to an end and I mourned the loss of a few beloved tees; one to a bleaching incident, and the others, well let’s just say obsession inevitably leads to destruction – no underarm area should turn THAT colour!
I thought all was well and normality (whatever that is) had been restored…until last week.
My colleagues/friends and me, were shopping locally when we happened upon a side alley of soft furnishings; think vacuum packed duvets, fleece fabrics and cotton so bright it makes your eyes hurt. But we are pros, and never overlook the opportunity for a good rummage. And rummage we did.
It was at this point that I snatched from my colleague’s hands (she always tries to beat me to it) a very-nice-considering-the-surroundings throw.
Now yes, the average temperature skirts around 34C these days and I tend to sleep in the emperor’s new clothes BUT this throw had found me and there was no going back; I exchanged my grubby cash note and walked out a happy man.
But not before another colleague/friend had remarked on the recurring “theme” that my apartment had, apparently, taken on.
Whatever could she mean? I wondered, it’s only a blue and white stripe blanket for goodness sake.
Then, this morning when I donned a pair of shorts, I suddenly found myself camouflaged into my surroundings…
Okay. So she may have a point.
theboywhoslippedover 