Well, the fairy never turned up so I donned my pink net tutu (and I have to tell you, it's a bit chilly here for that sort of garb) and hied me up town. Things went much better this week, although if you happen to be a very large lady, I can tell you that there's a good choice of pyjamas in every pyjama shop for you. Hardly a single smaller pair, though....
Moving on: I'd left Mr Life to carry out a separate mission or two. These included retrieving the Christmas tree from where it had been unceremoniously dumped in the back garden last week after he went to fetch it; and then putting it up and stringing it with lights. Well done, Mr Life, apart from the point at which you shut yourself out of the house without your keys.
He then phoned me to enquire when I was coming home and could let him in. This was just at the moment when I was inserting my Marks and Spencer's card into the machine to pay for [mumble mumble] and my stress at the thought of him freezing to death - his stiffened corpse found on the doorstep as I returned, burdened with bags, from my mission - made me get my pin number wrong. However, I pulled myself together and keyed in the right number - but it was rejected. I tried again - rejected again, and the card locked. I was mildly indignant, but then it occurred to me that I could always pay with money, so I did.
It was some time later that I realised that I'd typed my Visa card number in, instead of the Marks and Spencer one.
I blame Mr Life.
(He didn't die. He went up to my mother's and borrowed her spare key. I knew you'd want to be reassured of that.)
Alas, those parcels at the top are Google's, not mine. Mine wrapped? Not as such. But still - things are progressing. Kind of.