God, I hate to sound like a whinger, but really, why do I do it to myself?

1. I get locked out of my flat at 11.30pm on Saturday night. Landlady taxis keys over. I stand on the main street, waiting. Wearing my red floral dress and make-up, I was all coming over as Happy Valley's Crack Whore, kerb-crawling for clients. Taxi turned up with keys at 1 am.

2. I don't like bagel-shaped bread. Really, I don't. Yet I keep buying the toasted bagel-shaped bread from Pacific Coffee every other week. Why can't they supply me with real bagels? Why can't I just stop buying them? Why?

3. Went for (what seemed like) a 100% 45 degrees 1.5 hour walk up the Peak. I now have 'buns of steel'. Said buns are aching like hell. I hope no one notices me occasionally massaging my bum.