Week 16

I blame the following entirely on lack of blood.

I have become a trophy girlfriend. I’ve been pep talked, dressed up and then shown off. It all began last Friday afternoon, Spikey and I were on our way back from our first appointment with the midwife (which involved various blood tests and some very personal questions) when we came across this little boutique with sparkly dresses. As we had a wedding to attend on the Saturday (one of his friends tying the knot), Spikey decided we should have a look. I had already bought a shocking pink sixties dress in my favorite vintage shop near Brick Lane and was half way through altering the sleeves, so I didn’t really see the point, but went along anyway. After trying on about 20 dresses in purple, green, blue, burgundy (!), velvet, silk, satin; sequined, beaded and embroidered, I finally went along with a black, Audrey Hepburn style, kneelength dress that will fit me for the next two weeks and then again hopefully in a years time or so. I even let him pay. Lack of blood I say! The independent modern woman’s worst enemy. Makes her enjoy pampering and attention. Burn her at the stake! Lack of blood I say.