The first full week since the Christmas break and it was very difficult to haul myself out of bed knowing that there were another four early starts to go. It's amazing how quickly you get used to a short week and how, come Friday, it seems like there hasn't been a break at all.

It is probably just as well I'm back at work because the festive season has put a dent the size of a small crater in my credit card, and the strain of producing home-cooked meals every day was beginning to show.

My English cousin spent New Year with us. It's a few years since she has been over and it was interesting to see Dublin from the view of someone who only visits every once in a while.

We took a spin out to Blanchardstown shopping centre. Brenda was impressed with the M50. She found it hard to equate motorways and fly-overs with the Ireland she visited every year when we were children.

In her head, and despite the fact that she has read all the articles about our booming economy, she still thought of Ireland as a place of narrow roads and getting stuck behind a tractor, and Dublin as a glorified town. Blanchardstown is pretty small compared to her local shopping centre, which is Thurrock, but we still had to queue to get in and out. Brenda's only complaint was that she had bought a long black cardigan in the Thurrock's branch of Next a couple of weeks earlier if she'd waited she could have bought it in the sales here and at an exchange rate of 0.8650 to further enhance the bargain.

It was the exchange rate that was our undoing really. She insisted on going into the city centre a couple of days later to do some real shopping.

I justify the following events on the basis that I was doing research into the retail sales figures. Given that November's figures won't come out until the end of this month, it'll be practically time for the summer bonanzas before we see the results of the Christmas sales, but I felt that I had to participate to get a real feel for how people were spending this January.

Our plan was to scout around the shops, see if there was anything that we truly needed (pathetic, I know), see whether or not the reductions made it a real bargain (sadder still) and, only then, make a decision to buy.

The first shop we visited was under the instructions of the man in my life. He had a gift voucher and I was entrusted with the mission of buying a blue shirt. I bought a much nattier Guinness label casual top. Men have far too many blue shirts. It was a little more than the amount of the voucher, but dramatically reduced so a bargain.

The next stop was an outside chance - Kilkenny Design, so that Brenda could have a look at some modern Irish pottery. She didn't want to buy anything, just look. I didn't even want to look. For those of a nervous disposition, read no further.

When is a bargain a bargain? Is it when the merchandise concerned is something you've been looking at for weeks and finally, amazingly, it is actually marked down in the sale and nobody else has bought it? Or is it something that you'd never thought about buying before but just looks incredibly good value now?

While Brenda was looking at tablelamps, I took a stroll through the clothes department. When I tell you that the suede jacket was reduced by around 75 per cent you can see why I succumbed. Even though I had no intention of buying a suede jacket when I walked in the door. Actually, I was going to be sensible about it. I dragged Brenda from the table-lamps and asked her opinion. "Can't go wrong," she said.

But did I need it? I have a suede jacket. Not as nice as this, a completely different style but I have a suede jacket. At least six years old, mind you.

I put the jacket back on the rail and said I'd think about it. Someone else picked it up and tried it on. I was aghast. It was, suddenly, my jacket. My bargain. I wanted it. I'd practically bought it. "We'll have a coffee and you can make up your mind," said Brenda. "Although that woman looks very keen, doesn't she?"

We pretended not to notice her. The jacket looked very smart. She slipped it off and hung it back on the rail. Brenda pounced on it and brought it back to me. "Try it again," she commanded.

Okay, I know I'm making it sound like it was all her fault. But she said I couldn't go wrong and so did the sales assistant. And the woman who had hung it back on the rail looked like she regretted that move. So of course I bought the jacket.

We had a coffee, left the shop and walked up Grafton Street. Next stop, River Island. We bought two jumpers. Three shops, three stops, and a purchase in each one. A bond salesperson would kill for a hit rate like it. We went into Marks & Spencer. I'll spare you the details. Then Brenda said, in a small voice, "I really liked the table-lamp."

So it was back to Kilkenny Design and she bought the table-lamp, 10 per cent off and the exchange rate was still 0.8650. Another bargain.

Actually, she's probably going to spend the same again in physiotherapy. The base was made of slate and, since I'd been working in the morning, the car was parked in the IFSC. We must have looked quite a sight as we staggered down the quays with an assortment of plastic bags and a table-lamp that weighed as much as a computer terminal.

So I'm going for the higher estimates on the retail sales numbers for January whenever they do come out.

As I said almost a relief to get back to work and find that the markets have taken 1998 to heart and had a sparkling day on Monday. Alan Greenspan's comments, which suggested that the next move in US rates might be down, had people clamouring to buy US bonds, and the European markets followed happily.

A little like the jacket in Kilkenny design when you see someone else buying something you suddenly think it's a bargain yourself.

Even if you're spending more than you thought you would in the first place. Let's hope both I and the markets get the best out of our January bargains.

Sheila O'Flanagan is a fixed-income specialist at NCB stockbrokers.