It's Monday. Monday, Monday, Monday

And I have no post prepared. Nothing to say. Zip.

Normally, I'd at least have an idea up my sleeve for moments such as this, ready to blather to the masses (or, you know, all three of you my beloved readers) in a desperate pinch, but today? Nothing.

This grey, cold Monday morning, I have lost my groove.

Guess why?

Yesterday I went car shopping. It's enough to steal anyone's groove.

I hate car shopping. Despise it. Car shopping is a boy thing. I know, I know, it's a very anti-feminist thing to say, but seriously ...you have the choice between going shopping shopping, and going car shopping? What do you do? Exactly.

Why the car shopping though?

Here's the thing ... We're musing on whether we should get a bigger car (long term musing. Loooooong term. Post-IVF savings goal). We have a Subaru Legacy at the moment, which works well, but of course, we're thinking kids and dogs, and somewhere along the way we're going to run out of room.

We trudged around and looked at various large people-moverey type things (Honda Odyssey, Mitsi Chariot) and let me just say, blah, blah, blah. Unless we have a multiple birth (minimum of triplets) and we have to go that way, I'd like to avoid it. We've been spoiled with the Subie - it's such a great car. And safe. Very, very safe. It loves the road, and holds onto it good as you're zooming about (safely and obeying all speed restrictions).

We took an Isuzu Bighorn for a good drive (well, it is big!) ...Al got car sick and I was petrified I was going to whack into something. I drive a Polo for heavensake ...you try going from a Polo to a Bighorn, and see if you don't have an anxiety attack!. Al has a hate on for 4x4s anyway, so he was happy to wipe them out as an option.

I had a marvelous laugh when Al tried to jam himself in a Hyundai Sante Fe ...he ended up with his knees up around his ears (and that was with the seat back as far as it could go), and he was about an inch taller than the roof as well. Shame really, because I didn't mind the Sante Fe.

So, at the moment, it could come down to a Holden Commodore, a Ford whatever (both wagons), or a top box thingy for the Subaru (which would give us more room, and significantly less than a new car).

Not bad.

It's just that it cost me my groove for a Monday.

All complaints to management, and he who thinks that a marriage is about equal partnership and that I should be involved in new car decisions. Someone beam me back to the fifties would ya?