So, as you may have gathered, I've been having a cull of my knickers. I have been ruthless and thrown lots away including baggy ones, high in my bottom ones and uncomfortable ones (okay, yes, I've put on weight, but, to be honest, they were always a fairly ambitious purchase).
I've put them in the bin and that seems a horrid waste but I can't believe anyone wants to wear anyone else's knickers, even if barely worn and washed and spotlessly clean.
I've also got rid of (as in bagged for the charity shop) those pink shorts I must have bought while under the influence of the spirit of insanity, a belt that came with something but has never been worn, and numerous t-shirts that looked nice in the shop but not on me, as well as the green shorts without a button (yes, i could have sewn on a button but that was never going to happen) that went in the bin.
On a different but connected note, this morning I did one of those endless time-wasting quizzes on Facebook, this time, 'What punctuation mark are you?' Well, I had to, didn't I?
It turns out I'm a comma. That seems quite appropriate; I am fond of commas, possibly too fond sometimes. I have a tendency to strew commas about but it's because I read my writing as I'm writing it and I like to breathe.