I had a rather interesting weekend.

This probably won’t be my “most-interesting best-ever” blog post, but I have to share:

Firstly, I got completely lost in one of my varsity’s buildings (I attend part time lectures), and managed to exhaust myself climbing what felt like countless flights of stairs. Thankfully, a kind security guard assisted me, after he saw me looking rather flustered. Needless to say, I was very late for my lecture. I’m studying Corporate Financial Management (my final CIS Board subject!), which means I really shouldn’t be late – there’s too much a person can miss, in just 15 minutes! We had some fun, at least, when two starlings decided to attend the class as well. Otherwise, it was relatively uneventful – not to say that it was a boring class. I find the subject extremely interesting, and our lecturer is brilliant (which is always a bonus).

Secondly, after lectures, I went to shop for red lipstick. Why? I don’t normally wear “red” lipstick, but I decided to join the Red My Lips campaign for Sexual Assault Awareness Month (April), which means wearing red lipstick as a symbol of support (in a nutshell). You can find out more about them on their Facebook page or online. Shopping for and purchasing red lipstick is, in itself, not a remarkable thing. What really got me was this:

As I waltzed off happily from the makeup counter, red lipstick in hand, I turned a corner and walked straight into what seemed to be a forest of onesies. Those things must be the most awful clothing/ fashion creation EVER. I’d rather wear a corset, seriously. I had to do a double-take, backed up, looked at the makeup sales lady in horror (who attempted to soothe me with some or other platitude that I’ve now forgotten – probably due to PTSD), then headed off smartly in the opposite direction – having totally forgotten that I needed to pass through said onesies to get to another section of the shop that had stuff I wanted to look at. Strange how seeing those horrible things can throw a person off their game just like that. Ew. And people wear them out in public! Shocking. I guess you’ve realised they’re a pet peeve, by now… Please don’t ever come to my house in one (unless you are under the age of 12) – I WILL have my “attack-cat” visit his skills upon your unwary self.

Last, but definitely not least, I was happily doing our weekly grocery shopping on Sunday evening when I was approached by a gentleman who struck up a conversation and soon thereafter asked me for my number. I really wasn’t expecting this, considering I have been married for nearly 3 years (my husband and I have been together for a total of almost 11 years now). I think hubby should come shopping with me in future. Or I should go out in yoga pants. I’m not one who likes being pressurised, so I pointed to my wedding ring and said “I’m sorry but no, I don’t think that’s a good idea, as my husband wouldn’t approve”. Despite this, the gentleman persisted. I’m extremely polite, so don’t say I should have told him to bugger off – it’s not in my nature. I eventually managed to extricate myself from the situation by saying “I’m sorry, it was lovely to meet you, but I must run”, waved at the gentleman, and dashed off as fast as I could down another aisle. I spent the rest of my shopping excursion hiding out, hoping said person had already left – not fun. I swear I’m like a frightened rabbit, sometimes.

I won’t mention what happened with curtain rails that were purchased this same weekend…that’s just too embarrassing a tale to tell. Ever.

I’m probably going to be traumatised for the next week or so, hence the need to write all of this out in the hope it will be somewhat cathartic. This is either a comedy, or a real tragedy that the most interesting part of my weekend involved onesies, red lipstick, getting lost, and being unexpectedly courted in a supermarket. I leave it up to you to decide.