Ok, I confess. I have a nasty habit - one might call it an addiction. Where some people gamble, others drink (no, that's not the addiction I am referring to - how dare you!) and others still dabble in drugs, I find I cannot go into a supermarket without buying much, much more than I need.
For example, I will nip into Sainsbury's to buy a few essential items and end up running up a bill in excess of £100 after filling my trolley with things I will probably never get around to eating. You know, there is that special shelf of "exotic" foods, and for some inexplicable reason I will grab a jar of pickled Indonesian goat testicles, just because "you never know when they might come in handy".
My cupboards are full of such bonkers purchases with sell-by dates that go back to a time when Slade topped the charts and Neil Armstrong was taking "one small step for man".
Well, that's my case for the defence anyway as I will need one after the story I'm about to tell.
After a good swim in the new international pool I had to pop into Morrisons on Monday. My mission was clear. I had run out of risotto rice for paella and also needed some butter and cold meats for the week's sandwiches (a necessity since the beloved Meeja Wales canteen was taken from us just over a year ago).
I toyed with the idea of just getting a small basket, but in the past I have ended up carrying two of these, full to bursting. Passers by might easily mistake me for one of those little Turkish weightlifters who can lift things twice their size, but risk a hernia in the process.
So I got a trolley. Not the big trolley you understand, just one of the smaller ones.
Forty minutes later I was at the checkout, loading bags upon bags into said trolley. The checkout girl smiled at me as she announced: "That'll be £77.50." Are they on commission, do you think?
A wee bit expensive, too, when you consider I was only hoping to buy fillings for a week's worth of sandwiches.
Anyway, forget goat's testicles. Among my many purchases were four large chorizo sausages (you never know when you're going to need a chorizo sausage), a large bottle of hot chilli sauce, a job lot of steak and kidney pies (because they were a bargain) and the Audrey Hepburn dvd collection. Yes, that's right. Audrey Hepburn.
My reasoning? It was only £6, included five films AND the full manuscript for Breakfast at Tiffany's.
Now, on purchasing said DVD I did actually read the back, which described the aforementioned film as a "delightful Romantic Comedy", in fact just the sort of thing we red-blooded males buy all the time I'm sure you will agree.
It just seemed a logical purchase at the time. The Audrey Hepburn Collection - £6. Fantastic.
It's only when I received the bill for my purchases that it dawned on me that it is this sort of impulse buy that leaves me shockingly broke by the end of the month.
Still, having made the purchase I had to watch the film. And, I admit, it's a classic that I hadn't seen before. One of the reasons I wanted to see it was that it was written by Truman Capote and, having read his book In Cold Blood and seen the film Capote, I must admit I am intrigued by his work.
To be fair, it was a pretty enjoyable couple of hours in the company of Ms Hepburn and George Peppard whom, I recall, used to be in a series I watched years ago about a detective called Banacek before his starring role as leader of the A-team.
Afterwards I admitted to Wren how I had spent my evening. "That sounds fab," she said, "we'll have to read the scripts together now."
Ummm, no. One night getting in touch with my feminine side is enough thank you. She'll have me dressing in tights next.