I walk around town aimlessly.
I do that sometimes. I don’t much like going for scenic walks by myself; I don’t like to be left alone with my thoughts. I would much rather be distracted by the eyecatching chaos of capitalism. So I head into town and I wander around running my hand over sequin scales and plush velvet and thick, cosy cashmere. I stumble up and down streets until my legs get tired, with nowhere particular in mind and earphones on to block any potential social interaction with the international sign for ‘BUSY’. I walk around town aimlessly, and sometimes I stumble on treasures.
Usually these are food-related, because I am a hungry hippo in the body of a short brunette.
On Thursday, it was a 1kg jar of Nutella.
The lid on the jar says “Start your day with Nutella!” and I have been diligently following this excellent nutritional advice. Who am I to argue with dietary guidance from a jar of chocolate spread? It may not physically be good for me, but every morning I pull out a teaspoon, dig it into the jar, shove it in my mouth and smile. I’m an adult, and one of the great things about being an adult is that I can choose to have Nutella for breakfast.
Sometimes adulting has an upside!
*This is not a sponsored post. I absolutely wish. Can you imagine anything sweeter (pun intended) than a Nutella sponsorship? I would never be able to donate blood again because I would have Nutella running through my veins instead. Good for my mood, bad for my health.