On Friday I am going on holiday to Walberswick in Suffolk, but I still don’t have any sunglasses. I never imagined that this would actually put a downer on the prospect of 18 days off work, but it is.
What I really need are prescription sunglasses, but they’re exactly the kind of thing that I put off buying. I put regular glasses off for about 18 months and I need to wear those every day just to see, so the chances of me shelling out a three figure sum on sunglasses are slim to none.
Veterans of this blog will know that I have the tan. All of my clothes have washed and ironed themselves over the course of the week. Boots have delivered a brand new toothbrush, deoderant and shower gel to my flat. I have enough books to keep me going for a year, and my annual issue of Esquire magazine. What I don’t have is shades.
Or rather, what I do have is these shades.
Mrs Woodall bought these for me from Zara today, and I am a bit nervous as I haven’t yet worked out why. She is normally a lady of great taste and generous disposition, and so it’s a puzzle why she wants me to look like a gangster clown. She’s not here right now, so this is to be continued…