Shopping alone, in the sweltering heat while listening to one song on repeat over and over and over again can be a zen like experience.
Especially when you start to discover, from the midst of your heat induced trance that most bras seem to be oddly over padded. Should you ever decided to wear any, your breasts look like they’ve been hoisted up on a shelf.
I have learnt the hard way, padding and I must go our separate ways.
I have also tragically discovered that I can never wear a bikini. I look like an ass.
And thats my shopping quota for the entire year. I prefer my zen like experiences with narcotics.