Pancakes with syrup, chopped walnuts, bacon and a dusting of icing sugar  Topshop lightweight trench: my best sale buy to date  Currently I’m reading Jean Rhys’ sad and slow tale of one woman’s ennui and loneliness in 1930’s Paris:
‘I have no pride – no pride, no name, no face, no country. I don’t belong anywhere. Too sad, too sad…I doesn’t matter, there I am, like one of those straws which floats around the edge of a whirlpool and is gradually sucked into its centre, the dead centre, where everything is stagnant, everything is calm. Two pound ten a week and a room just of Gray’s Inn Road…’ 
‘My life, which seems so simple and monotonous, is really a complicated affair of cafes where the like me, and cafes where they don’t, streets that are friendly, streets that aren’t, rooms where I might be happy, rooms where I never shall be, looking-glasses I look nice in, looking-glasses I don’t, dresses that will be lucky, dresses that wont, and so on’.