red pants and giant sushi

I have been so efficient today that I decided to reward myself with some new red pants. Hubby says a man's pants are his castle. Perhaps so, but a lady's pants are a reward for doing three years' worth of tax returns and looking after a six-year-old who's convalescing from an eye operation. I'm now wondering whether it would be extravagant of me to buy an egg poacher, too. I have been after a decent egg poacher for even longer than I've been after a nice pair of red pants, but somehow the thrill of hitting the 'buy now' button on Amazon just isn't the same for kitchenware as it is for lingerie. Not sure when I will wear the red pants though. Do you remember Movember, when all the blokes grew facial hair for charity? Well, I'm doing Fanuary (except not for charity, just because I'm not likely to be wearing a bikini any time soon), so red pants might be a bit redundant  - until there has been some serious epilation, at least.
I have just finished the fattest, hugest bit of sushi the world has ever seen. It was for sushi what the 'camberwell carrot' was to roll ups, and now it's in my tummy because, according to the Slimming World booklet, rice, vinegar and seaweed are all free foods, so don't count, so effectively I haven't eaten a sushi roll the size of a large hamster, I have eaten nothing at all!
Corononation Street is on now, so I'm off. Hope your new year is also full of red pants and sushi xxx