There was a fart floating around Marks & Spencers the other day.
I had just wandered down the pudding aisle (very relaxing) and I suddenly found myself trapped in a low-hanging, silent-but-deadly.
I’m pretty sure it was this woman near by.
Her face was too serene not to be guilty. I mean it was an absolute stinker.
And she distinctly seemed like she was trying to sidle away from the pudding section.
I love the word pudding.
Been running late more than usual these past 2 weeks, especially since Kings Cross has done some renovations which are screwing up my daily run.
(I run to work. That is, I run when I’m not on public transport to shave off precious minutes from my very tight morning schedule. I think this should qualify as an Olympic Sport)
I have to constantly alternate the time on my phone. It’s now 10 minutes fast, the idea being that, good fortune willing, I will get to work on time, by mentally thinking I’m 10 minutes late.
Unfortunately I have adapted to the 10 mins ahead time so I might need to put it another 10 minutes forward.
I don’t know where this will ever end.