It’s a racy life we lead over here

So today I payed an exorbitant amount in bills – gas, electricity, green slip, car registration, credit cards, vasectomies, outstanding school fees, you name it.

I even escaped to the shops (to do the car rego) on my own.
Where you know, there were other shops.
So I had a look because you know it is sale season.
And considering I own two t-shirts that are both more than two years old and just passable for wearing in public.
And a pair of long shorts and three quarter jeans that are too big after buying them without trying them on just after having Jasper.
I said, ‘Hello Katies. Oh store of cheap clothing.’
And after initially being overwhelmed by the plethora of hideous print fabrics fashioned into SMOCKS, came home with two skirts, two pairs of shorts, four tops for less that $120.
I am guessing the term sweat shop could be applied.
Or Made in China.
But at least I have clothes that fit (there is still muffin top but we’re back on track after the Christmas eating frenzy), aren’t stained and make me look vaguely presentable to the rest of the civilised world.
Yes, they are typical of my kind of uniform – plain paints, collared or v-necked tees – but I look OK.

I even got the battery replaced in my watch.