September 17th 2018

Today I went shopping for holiday clothes. On Friday I’m off to Greece for two weeks, and this weekend I suddenly realised that I didn’t have any shorts. As it turned out, neither did any of the shops. I guess mid-September is not prime-time for short sales. By the fourth shop I went to, I was almost giving up hope and figuring out how much ASOS next-day delivery would cost me, but H&M came through clutch. And not just clutch, discounted clutch.

Because mid-September isn’t prime time for short sales, I profited from the many advantages of the post-summer-everything-must-go-sale and picked up three pairs of shorts and three shirts for £40.

Due to lack of availability, the choice was limited, so I ended up with a lot more pink than I envisioned, but fuck it, I’ll be on holiday. You’re allowed to wear oddly questionable colour clashes and no one can say anything. (Well, they can, you just can’t understand their insults because they’re talking in Greek.)

I’m looking forward to this holiday. Two weeks on a remote Greek island with my ex*-girlfriend sounds like just the break that I need from all of the mentally taxing changes happening in my life recently.

*did I mention that bit?

That sounded sarcastic, but in a weird way, it wasn’t. I mean, it will be weird to be on holiday with my ex, but I’m also kind of okay with it. I just need a holiday, and so does she. We’re still fond of eachother we just happen to have broken up.

Who says you shouldn’t go on holiday with your ex? Oh, yeah, literally everyone I’ve told. That’s who.

Despite all those difficulties, I’ve got a fancy pink shirt and some snazzy salmon shorts, and I might even wear them at the same time.

Until tomorrow, because when you’re on holiday you can do what you want, right?


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