Golden Retriever

Yesterday in my lunch-break, I went to Schöps to exchange the jumper I'd bought for my granny for a bigger size. So far, so innocent.

Oh-oh! What did my shopping-radar pick up immediately after crossing the threshold - the coveted mock sheepskin coat I'd drooled over in other branches but never tried on because all that was left were "L" and "XL" sizes and there didn't seem much hope of new deliveries. "Suits me fine", I thought, "that's one more impulse buy prevented by adverse circumstances." Not so as the Graben branch (as it turned out later) had managed to order some smaller sizes from uncool (my interpretation) districts. Hurrah! "XS" fit perfectly and I marvelled at my cuddly polar-bear-in-a-dressing-gown appearance in the claustrophobic changing cubicle, sweat running down my face. Thanks to the fact that it was all manmade fibre and only polyester vulgaris creatures had to die for this coat, so to speak, it was €59 well spent, I thought. It's never too early to buy a winter coat, eh?

The Mermaid whom I asked to take a picture of me and my new "hide" remarked that it made me look like a Golden Retriever. Details!

En route to the office I stopped at Tchibo to check out their new arrivals and bingo! found another ABOSLUTELY VITAL gadget - speakers for my IPod.

I finished my spree (the things you can accomplish in a 75 min lunch-break...) by buying a birthday present for my little cousin.

In view of yesterday's retail therapy extravaganza I restricted myself to food today, checking out a brand new eatery with PPS. The salad we had was tasty but not exactly saturating, prompting us to stop at an ice-cream parlour on the way back to our respective offices.