The office is too damn cold. I am wearing a T-shirt and a thin jumper, and I am freezing. Sometimes I go to the loo just to stand under the dryer and feel warm for a bit. No wonder I’m in a permanent state of snifflyness.

Last week I went to Liberty and finally spent the gift coin Therese got me. I had to plan my outfit for Liberty, as it depresses me to shop in such a beautiful building looking like a scruff. So I donned a vintage 70s dress, black with a purple pattern, my new boots from the Fatted Calf, denim jacket, long grey crochet scarf, and a green tweedy bag with gold handles I got for a fiver in Eastbourne. Then Steve and I promenaded around the shop for a good hour. Should I blow all the money on one fabulously decadent but horribly impractical pair of dry-clean-only silk knickers? A Marc Jacobs jumper TopShop have knocked off for a fraction of the price? A new bottle of Dypthique perfume, as my current one’s running out? In the end I admitted that if I spent £25 on one item I could not live with myself. Yeah, I know. But I can’t face spending £16 on body lotion, or £8 on a tea towel, so I bought the following items:

Jasmine and Grapefruit soap: Oh. My. God. Smells amazing. Makes the bathroom smell amazing. Foams up like the richest, creamiest shower gel. After watching Fight Club, I am convinced it can only be made of human fat.

Christmas cards: it’s a fact that animals doing human things (gambling! Getting married! Throwing snowballs at each other while wearing knitted waistcoats and bobble hats!) is the funniest thing in the world, EVER. Steve expressed delighted surprise when I agreed that a framed painting of the classic of this genre, Dogs Playing Poker, would look good on the living room wall in our new flat.

Chocolate pocket-watch tree decoration: it was pretty and we scoffed it on the bus on the way home.

Candle shaped like a milk bottle: smelled like childhood, but we couldn’t quite decide how. Has a cow on it. Smells biscuity and creamy and mmmmm.

Slab of cinnamon and vanilla Mexican chocolate: has a weird crumbly, gritty texture, but once it starts to melt it’s addictive. Also very good grated into pancake or muffin batter.

Jar of £6 honey: I feel like a queen eating this. Six quid? On honey? Well you’ve got to live a little sometimes.