The things getting me through this never ending lockdown

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The Great Pottery Throw Down

Sometimes, something happens that makes you 100% sure that you have found the one. The moment Zoe turned to me and said ‘Do you fancy watching The Great Pottery Throw Down?’ was one of those moments. I am an avid Bake off fan. I jumped on the bandwagon late with the Nadiyah series but half way through watching, I began from series 1 and watched them all by the time we saw the Queen crowned. I was hooked and also very confused as to which contestant was on which series because I was watching too many different series at once (Classic me). This is the third series of Throw Down and oh my goodness. It is honestly, wonderful and *whispers* I like it more than Bake off. There was something about the move to Channel 4 that irked me about GBBO and I never found myself as invested since ad breaks were introduced and the history section was scrapped along with the holy trinity of Mez Bez and Mel and Sue. For some reason, this hasn’t been the same with Throw Down. I am 100% invested in the journeys of every single potter and I cry week in week out. There is so much I love about it and if you’re quick, you can get through the 5 episodes that have already aired and watch live with the nation every Sunday night. It’s worth it, promise.

  • The head judge Keith cries when someone does well. This is relatable for me and now when Keith cries, I cry. Rarely do we see an emotionally engaged man on TV. Paul Hollywood is adored for being a meany but I will eat my hat if you watch Throw Down and don’t instantly want Keith to be your Dad. He’s lush.
  • The series is doing well in terms of diversity. There is still a way to go BUT it is so nice to see different body types, sexualities, nationalities, races all together making really nice crockery. My fave is Rose, the pottery assistant and the self-proclaimed ‘trans kiln witch’.
  • I don’t know anything about pottery, I’ve made one pinch pot in my life time and it is fun to watch something completely new and learn about the creative process behind the household objects we take for granted. With Bake Off, I feel like we know the challenges and themes like we know how predictable the Hollywood handshake is but with Throw Down everything is new and exciting and the challenges are really different. One week they’re making dainty ceramic daisies and the next…bricks.
  • There is a real escapism in just watching nice people doing something nice and being nice to each other. I’m all for it.

Puzzle books

A couple of weeks ago, I needed to buy something from the corner shop to get change for the laundrette. As I’m trying to kick my Diet coke habit, I instead reached for a puzzle book. I’m not sure why.. maybe because Philip Schofield was on the cover.. who knows. Whilst my washing tumbled, I was absolutely hooked by cross words, word searches, arrow words and sudoku. My washing finished and I couldn’t leave until I worked out the year Torville and Dean won Gold (1984, you’re welcome). I have decided my favourite are word searches because they don’t require you to know anything and you can’t cheat. I now have a bumper book of 189 word searches to get through. I look like a Nan, wrapped up in my blanket, highlighter in hand and before I know it a good hour has past and my cup of tea has gone cold. I am in the matrix, I eat word searches for breakfast. I also may or may not have applied for a TV game show and whilst there won’t be a round on word searches (if there is, the other contestants can eat my dirt) I’m doing some brain gym and surely that is going to help when asked v.tricky general knowledge questions that I have zero general knowledge about.

Learning stuff

If you are have got this far in the blog post you deserve to know that not only have I applied for a TV game show but I am now through to the final audition to actually be on a TV game show. I am on a quest to learn everything there is to know so I don’t get turned into a meme. Even if I don’t make it onto the programme, I’m going to be the pub quiz assassin and you will all want me on your team. My weakest subjects are Geography and Sport so this last week I have been revising. I have now covered the Continents, Oceans, Space and Capital cities. I might not be the sharpest tool in the box but once I’ve learnt something I am pretty good at remembering it. I did not get on with my Geography teacher one bit and spent the majority of the classes sat outside in the corridor so I have had to do some serious ground work and I’m weirdly..enjoying it?! Take that Mr Clarke and your stupid maps that no-one wants to colour in, you asshole.

Podcasts

Off Menu Podcast
Shagged Married Annoyed
How to Fail
I have limited myself to 3 podcasts because I am a completionist and there are only so many hours of the day and I am busy watching people make pottery, doing quizzes and learning stuff. These three tick my boxes. Download them and thank me later.

How to fail

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I recently started listening to Elizabeth Day’s podcast where she invites celebs to share 3 of their failures. It’s really great. If like me, you’ve been living under a rock, here it is and you only have 79 episodes to get through. God speed. Inspired by my new listening & my pal Imi’s post I thought I would share 3 of my own failures. Recognising where you’ve failed gives you the chance to celebrate where you have succeeded and more importantly recognise that failing is ok, that it is all part of being a wonderfully flawed human.

Doing a forward roll

I cannot do a forward roll. I never have and I never will. For the first 16 years of my life this was extremely stressful. Through the primary school ages, I dreaded the lessons when those squishy blue mats would be brought out ready for tumbling. Need someone to demonstrate a perfect teddy bear roll? Sign me up. Need someone to demonstrate a perfect forward roll? I suddenly really need the toilet. I remember once at a church BBQ I got all of the adults to take in turns to coach me how to do a forward roll. I wanted to be able to go into school next week and not feel sick with nerves that I’d be asked to do one and maybe I just needed the right teacher. It felt like everyone in the whole world to could do a forward roll except me and when I still couldn’t do one after 3 hours of coaching and a regular intake of hot dogs I thought my life was officially over. I despairingly asked my sister’s friend what I should do about the dreaded p.e. class coming up next week because I had checked the weather and it was going to rain which meant we’d definitely be on those pissing blue mats. He wisely suggested I forget my p.e. kit. So I did. Crisis averted. For now.

Through the secondary school years, the stakes felt even higher but luckily my forgery skills had come on since the age of 6 and I could get myself excused from any lessons that included the word gymnastics. Weirdly 10 minutes into the lesson I would suddenly realise I had a letter saying I couldn’t participate due to cramps (sorry Mum!). It goes to show that no male p.e. teacher had a good grasp of menstrual cycles because my periods lasted for weeks on end and none of them pulled me in for a chat, concerned about the sheer amount of blood I must be losing.

Luckily, since secondary school I have never been asked to do a forward roll and I have since met other people who can’t do one either (solidarity, my friends). This failure embodies my complete fear of letting other people down but in hindsight I don’t think anyone was particularly bothered by my lack of gym mat skills.. except me.

Driving

I am 29 years old and I cannot drive. I would much rather walk, run, cycle, get the bus, crawl or skip thank you very much. The thought of driving makes me feel sick and I don’t know if I’ll ever get to the place where I actually want to learn to drive. I fleetingly did driving lessons shortly after my 17th Birthday and I think I got to the bit when you start doing manoeuvres and then my driving instructor quit and I convinced myself it was because I had let him down in some way. After that I did a few lessons with a new instructor who was so passive aggressive she made me cry and I vowed I would never try again. I hate being bad at stuff and I thought I must be the worst person who has ever tried to learn to drive. In reality, I had hardly had any lessons and it takes time to be able to safely drive a hunk of mental around the mean streets of the very small town I grew up in which in hindsight would be a much easier place to learn in than the big bad city of Bristol. Sigh.

I still feel frozen with fear at the thought of getting back in the drivers seat. I don’t think it’s too much of a big deal that I can’t drive until I want to do a big food shop or not get on a Megabus which always smells of feet.

Boundaries

Boundaries is such a buzz word at the moment and I use it a lot but I absolutely suck at actually implementing them. The queen of multi-tasking, answering emails at midnight and putting away laundry whilst also on loud speaker chatting to someone I definitely didn’t need to be chatting to. The nature of my anxiety means that I love having a packed diary because the more I do the less I need to think. My favourite days at work are the ones that whizz by because I just have so much to do and it’s only recently that I’ve realised how unhealthy that is. For years I allowed my time to be sucked up by everything and anyone and never carve out time for me just to be. I think I’m getting better at this but I can easily find myself slipping back into it because old habits die hard. I said to my therapist once that I was exhausted because so many people needed stuff from me, I was trying to keep so many spinning plates spinning and it just wasn’t fair. Rather than sympathising with me she told me that maybe I find my worth in needing to be needed and she’d absolutely hit the nail on the head. I am regularly serving from an empty cup & I.am.thirsty.



2021 and Lockdown 3.0

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We glugged the sweet fizz of prosecco as we saw in the New Year with (the rightful King of the Castle) Jordan North. We grabbed panettone by the fistful and danced to 80’s pop and I allowed myself to feel quietly optimistic about 2021. Like a modern day Cinderella I wanted the stroke of midnight to mean something and instead of leaving my shoe on the staircase as I ran outside, I wanted to leave the pandemic and all the other shit we’re carrying and firmly close the door behind me. But no such luck. We opened the door and outside there was a thick frosty fog filling the streets. You couldn’t even see your hand infront of your face and it didn’t feel like a very good omen. But hey, stranger things have happened and maybe 2021 really will be the year that all my dreams come true.

I have a love/hate relationship with new years resolutions. For a long time they would be a reason to berate myself into a new diet or exercise regime to shrink myself as much as possible. In more recent times, they would be an opportunity to say ‘THIS IS THE YEAR I WILL LOVE MY BODY NO MATTER WHAT OK’ and then 3 days later when I am squeezing into some leggings and not feeling so kind with my inner thoughts, I would have officially ruined my resolution and face planted the entire contents of my fridge. Rules don’t work for me, even if they’re positive ones.

So instead of resolutions, this year I’ve put our 3 hopes into the Universe. One is a big one and the other ones are a little bit silly. If I don’t achieve any of them then everything will still be ok and the world will keep on turning. This is the first year I didn’t even consider making any resolutions that revolve around my body which is extremely refreshing. So instead..

A house

I would really really like to buy a house this year. It would be nice to have more space and a garden but if that doesn’t work out, we have a little flat which is home and a place I feel safe in and that is more than enough.

Olio & Duolingo

I would really really like to use these apps a bit more. But if I don’t collect ‘x’ amount of bags for life full of gone off pastries or complete a 300 day streak of learning french.. c’est la vie!

1 second a day

I would really really like to remember to record my 1 second video every day so on the 31st December 2021 I have something nice to look at and if I don’t remember one day that isn’t a call for me to give up completely and instead just to pick it up when I remember again.

The stakes of all of these hopes are low, lower than low, the lowest because none of them actually really matter. If seeing the 1st January as a blank slate works for you then you do you but I am done with the pressure. Besides, I think we all have quite enough to be dealing with right now trying to keep up with if we are allowed to hug our nan, meet up in a pissing cold park, or stay 1 or 2 meter’s apart from the lurker in the corner shop.

God speed into lockdown 3 and again, please don’t invite me to your Zoom quiz.

In review: 2020

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The year filled with so much hope will end in 13 days (how apt). I have 30 hours left of work until I put on that sweet out of office and pour myself an extremely large gin. This year has been fucking awful but I am determined to find some glitter in the grey. So here we go.

  • I got a girlfriend
  • I got a girlfriend who likes sharing out chores and emotional labour
  • My family didn’t abandon me when I told them about aforementioned gf
  • I had therapy that helped untangle my issues around dependency
  • I made real leaps and bounds in my eating disorder recovery
  • I bought more shoes so that I don’t only wear one pair of running shoes all day every day
  • I decided I liked marmite after 29 years of thinking I hated it
  • I started swimming again in rivers, lakes, lidos and swimming pools
  • I got a tattoo!!!!!
  • I bought a bike, had cycling lessons and didn’t fall off…yet
  • I read a shit ton of books. Currently on #60
  • I went in a float tank and it kind of felt like I’d taken mushrooms
  • I made a real effort to ditch fast fashion and have massively reduced my spending habits
  • I gave lots of time to volunteering
  • I learnt how to speak French, 100 day streak on Duolingo baby
  • I stood up for myself more
  • I think I ate peanut butter every day (potentially fake news)
  • I climbed a real actual mountain
  • I got to live in 2 v.different parts of the city that I love
  • I completed an award winning amount of levels on Candy Crush
  • I discovered new nice green spaces to explore
  • I fell in love with new music, tv, poems and podcasts
  • I am the proud owner of a ladder bookshelf
  • I finally found out what is wrong with my feet and how to help them
  • I stopped wearing make-up and feel liberated by my fresh face
  • I did some half arsed calligraphy
  • I got paid to do some writing
  • I got paid to do a focus group about vaginas
  • I proved I’m an adult by buying a sofa on credit
  • I managed to keep my job and business despite having 98541 melt downs
  • I managed to get some decent dollar into my savings account
  • I connected with new and old friends in meaningful ways
  • I kept my sanity during a worldwide pandemic yeaah woooo!

Ok that did actually make me feel a little bit better and I highly suggest you give it a go and tell me in the comments if you want but don’t if it’s going to make me feel bad. Just kidding. Sort of.

24/7

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A few days ago I found out by the power of a judgmental app that in the previous 7 days I had been on my phone for 24 hours, the equivalent of one whole day out of my week. During this time I had – chatted to friends, learnt French, ordered things, did online banking and for the remaining 90% of the time, doom scrolled on Instagram. The app even showed how long I was using my mobile each time I unlocked, ranging from 7 seconds to a full hour.

I have always had a complex relationship with my phone and feel like I am continually trying to work out what works best for me – removing social media completely, letting myself a set amount of time to go on my favourite apps, alarms to tell me I have been on my phone too long or just turning it off completely. When I go cold turkey and put my phone away in a drawer, I feel great but as soon as the time creeps nearer for us to be reunited I literally get a rush of adrenaline, my heart starts beating and I can’t get off it until everything has been seen, responded to and completed which is impossible because as soon as you’re done someone does another bloody Instagram story.

I wrote this blog post where I concluded that a 7 day detox had changed my relationship with my phone for good and I would now be a lot more mindful with how I use this annoyingly intelligent piece of technology but lets be honest, it didn’t stick. I’m not mad at myself for being addicted to my phone because that is literally what they are designed to do. I watched the Social dilemma a few months ago and decided I would never use social media again and then the next day I posted what I was eating for dinner.

I feel my main ties to my phone lie in Whatsapp and Instagram. I have increased the amount of people I follow on Instagram which might sound counterproductive but when I follow less people I feel like I need to be up to date with everyone’s dull antics. Following more people has made it literally impossible to do that so now I can pick and choose the content I engage with. Whatsapp is a bit of a beast, I miss the days of saying ‘ptb’ at the end of a text message and then having to wait 3-5 working days until my mate had saved up their pocket money to get a top-up and then finally got back to me. Messages were long, squeezing in the absolute maximum of characters instead of the constant dialogue that Whatsapp encourages. I tried to use my Whatsapp account like old school sms, spending time before I responded and then sending a full paragraph to engage in more meaningful comms but that isn’t ideal when your gf just wants to know if you want salmon for dinner.

I don’t have the answers but I do know I need to use my phone less. These last 2 days the judgmental app tells me I have used my phone around an hour each day which means my usage has been reduced dramatically since I was presented with the cold hard facts and a graph to rival those on BBC news when a new covid announcement comes (next slide please). I’ve realized that when I have days when I have seen friends in person, I don’t reach for my phone as much. I’ve noticed that I am constantly craving connection and the best way for me to do that is to be present and irl with the people I want to chat to..which isn’t ideal when there is a global pandemic making it illegal to be close enough to have a chat without shouting.

So I’m going to be kind to myself whilst I muddle through this and not put any hard and fast rules about how I use my phone. As soon as I make a rule I want to break it. I can only use my phone for an hour a day? Watch me use it for seven. The thing I want to do is just use it a bit less and that’s something I reckon I can manage. At the end of the day if something is important, they will call you, promise.

We got covid-19. How’s that for clickbait?

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Last Thursday we were watching TV when Zoe said she had a headache. We thought it was because of our plug in heaters that turn our tiny flat into the Bahamas but smell a bit weird so we turned them off and decided to get an early night. Before we went to sleep I said that Zoe should book a covid test because she felt really hot. Luckily we managed to book her one for the next morning in the car park of our old University. We woke up on Friday and Zoe felt back to normal after a good sleep and I now had a headache and felt hot but the heaters weren’t on so we couldn’t blame them. I decided I should probably get a test too but couldn’t get one in the same time slot as Zoe so she went for hers then drove home and got me and took me for mine and all of the staff said funny things like ‘Back again already?’. It wasn’t very funny. Swabbing your tonsil and up your nose to your brain whilst gagging and trying not to sneeze is a pretty sexy activity to watch your partner do. A guy in full PPE came and collected my test using litter pickers and we headed home feeling slightly guilty that we got tested because we didn’t really feel ill anymore and maybe I was just hot because we sleep underneath a mountain of blankets.

Then it was the weekend and we stayed inside like good girls and laughed about how we definitely don’t have Coronavirus but then we did. Zoe’s test came back on Sunday morning and mine followed on Monday. We were really shocked because lots of friends had had more intense symptoms and had tested negative and I even said I would put all my savings on us not having it. Thank God we didn’t shake on it. From Monday I felt progressively worse – really fatigued and with complete loss of smell, taste and appetite. I’ve been sleeping for 12-13 hours a night and every small activity makes me need to go and sit down for a while after. I am eating in response to a stomach rumble but am getting no enjoyment from food and it all feels very strange. Luckily, Zoe has continued to be asymptomatic and has been able to work from home and deal with me moaning every waking hour about how tired I am and how I wish I could taste. Yesterday she had a delivery of the most delicious looking fudgy brownies and it made me so sad because I might as well just eat a raw green pepper.

I am trying not to worry about my symptoms and believe that they will pass but it is hard when pals keep texting to say their mate still hasn’t got their ability to taste back since March and the many articles about long-covid fatigue. I feel really grateful that my symptoms have been fairly mild in the grand scheme of things but I still feel extremely shit. Zoe is allowed outside on Sunday and me on Monday and I am really looking forward to some fresh air but I don’t feel like I am ever going to have energy again. I hope I will.

I guess I just wanted to put this out there because it is easy to think it won’t happen to you or the effects won’t be too bad because we’re young and healthy but even the mildest symptoms can be really debilitating. Also, if you have any of the headline symptoms, even a little bit – please get a test. Neither of us have had a cough at all and I know that I thought this was the main indicator that you need to get tested. Please be careful. We were lucky that we had only had close contact with 3 people in the window before our test who have needed to isolate and they are currently without symptoms, but we might not have been so lucky.

Stay safe and still don’t invite me to your Zoom quiz because I’m busy sleeping.

PS – A huge thanks to friends who have dropped round food, prescriptions, sent lil gifts, kept me company over Whatsapp and been all round good eggs. I treated myself to this little smiley sunshine too and look how cute it is:

Lockdown 2.0

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On the eve of the lockdown 1.0 I was bubbling with enthusiasm of the all the things I could do with my newly awarded free time. Dreams of finally getting through the never ending lists of hobbies, to-dos and activities finally seemed like they could become reality. I managed to ignore the fact that there was a huge virus travelling around the world and instead saw it as paid time off to do what I want, as long as it involved staying indoors and not seeing anyone. On the eve of lockdown 1.0 I moved in with my girlfriend which brought a new and exciting space to exist in, walls to be painted and drawers to be organized. I was ready to get shit done and I did. I painted and read and swam in rivers and cleaned and enthusiastically took part in video calls.

On the eve of lockdown 2.0 I feel numb. I’ve gotten back into the swing of being at work, seeing friends and had finally managed to achieve a pretty good balance of life stuff. I’d re-launched my business and people were hyped about it. I have no energy to be excited about another round of free time. I went to the library on Monday and found no books I wanted to read. Nothing is grabbing my attention. I already feel bored and we are only on day one.

Things that felt exciting in lockdown 1.0 which I now couldn’t care less about:

  • Having free time
  • Animal crossing
  • Zoom quizzes
  • Zoom calls
  • Anything about Zoom
  • Wild garlic
  • Banana bread
  • Sourdough starters (rip)
  • Being productive
  • Being positive

So I guess this time round it isn’t about thriving and it is about surviving. My only goal for each day is to eat and breathe and not look at the news too much.

God speed & please don’t invite me to your Zoom quiz.

I never want to be told to gargle with warm salt water ever again

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I suck at being ill. I hate being off work, I hate being told to do nothing and I hate not being able to eat anything more solid than soup or on a good day, mashed potato. I do, however like attention and being sick gets you plenty of that and an excuse to write a blog post about being ill where you have no idea where it is going to go. I am also heavily medicated so this could be a wild ride. Tonsillitis creeps up on me atleast once a year and no it not just a bad sore throat, it is actual hell. Once my throat finally stops feeling like it is being stabbed I am going to order an XL Papa Jon’s pizza and as many of those sweet garlic dips that my bank account allows and it’s going to be the best night of my life since I realised that all 121 episodes of Glee are available on Netflix.

Things that tonsillitis is worse than:

  • Repeatedly stepping on an upturned plug whilst your barefoot
  • Accidentally smashing a family heirloom
  • Wetting yourself in public
  • Losing the school Guinea pig that you took home to look after for a weekend
  • Booty calling your ex who cheated on you
  • Mistakenly using hair removal cream instead of shampoo
  • Being hungover and downing a glass of vodka, thinking it is water
  • Fracturing all of your toes

I like to be entertained. As a child I hated playing on my own, I would count down the days of half term longing to get back to school. As an adult I pack my social calendar full to the brim, pretending that I just loooove being busy when really I just don’t want to be by myself. When Zoe goes out for the evening, I watch TV whilst messaging as many people as possible on WhatsApp and redesigning my cabin on Animal Crossing. As soon as I take annual leave and allow myself to relax I get I’ll or if that hasn’t happened in a while then I am left to push push push until my tonsils swell up like golf balls and I break out into cold sweats. Being busy is the dark side to my ongoing struggle with high functioning anxiety. As my Mum says, I’ve got to stop burning the candle at both ends and for the sake of my tonsils and for the sake of my sanity, something’s got to give.

When the lockdown restrictions started to ease I said to myself that I would remember how much better I felt when the government ordered to stay inside and do nothing (bear with me). I thought a pandemic would wreak havoc on my mental health but years of catastrophising weirdly worked in my favour and now that a lot of other people were doing a whole lot of nothing, I allowed myself to do nothing too.. whilst I wasn’t busy thinking of excuses as to why I couldn’t attend your Zoom quiz. Now that life is returning to normal, I am struggling. I have let myself go from 0 to 100 and ended in a state of having to gargle warm salt water and take 6x tablets every 4 hours and I want to do everything in my power for this to never happen again. I feel like my tonsillitis has got tonsillitis. I know that prioritising time to do nothing isn’t going to cause a supersonic boost in my immune system but it’s surely going to help, right?

No time like the present, I’m going to stop endlessly wondering when life can get going again and instead focus on being quiet, still and saving £2983 to get a private tonsillectomy. Google tells me that a brave tonsillitis warrior before me has asked how to remove their tonsils at home, so that’s always a budget friendly option if the going gets really tough. But for now, rest.

This is your life

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This weekend I returned to Cornwall to see my parents and finally get round to sorting out my bedroom. Alexa, play Adele – Hometown glory. In my naivety I thought I had already done this when I left for University but it turns out that looks can be deceiving. My bedroom on first glance may look organized, tidy and grown up – minus the fuchsia pink carpet – but the cupboards and drawers and under my bed painted a different picture. Piles of clothes, photos, 1000 chunky belts and many silk black clutch bags stuffed with Marlborough lights were unearthed and separated into charity shop or ‘for the tip’ black sacks. I might be 29 years old but I still hid the crushed up cigarettes from my parents because it is important they still believe that I am Sandy before she had the makeover.

Sorting through these objects made me feel like I was on a low budget version of This Is Your Life. I used to have dreams that one day I would be famous and be surprised, but not too surprised, when I was presented with that iconic red book. Judging by the current trajectory of my life this is eXtremely unlikely. It felt kind of funny meeting my past self in journal entries of scathing tones that XYZ boy didn’t fancy me and the black silk clutch bags (why did I need 7?) that were an essential item for a successful night out, obviously paired with heels and intensely back combed hair. It felt kind of nostalgic meeting my past self in school reports from the celebration of when I first wrote my name to the recurring theme that I would be really capable if only I would stop talking so much. It felt kind of sad meeting my past self in love letters from a boy who used to make me cry at every six form party, push me around and smashed up his iPhone on the Oceana dance floor after seeing me weeks after I finally plucked up the courage to dump him.

Through this process I had the chance to meet with myself from child to teenager to adult, facing up to past worries, triumphs and regrets as I filled black sack after black sack with my history, tied up in broken hair bobbles and garishly coloured tights. I could let go of things that I had harbored for years and recognising that these no longer have a hold on me. I’m free.

During that weekend I saw from a distance, people who once were placed with great importance in my life. The girl who used to fill me with fear when I walked down the school corridors now played with her children on the water slide at the local leisure centre and the boy who used to tease me for being tall now walked with his 2 year old son desperately trying to get him to take a nap. Instead of placing these people into a black sack never to be seen again I had to face up to the fact that I am going to see these people over the years when I visit home and instead of feeling that knotted stomach feeling like I did walking to my English class in year 9, I had to let go. My Mum used to try and appease me when I went home crying, desperate to be in the ‘popular gang’ who in fact were a group of people who weren’t popular at all, they were feared. She would say that these are their glory days and one day when I was a grown up I might even be thankful for how these experiences had shaped me. I never believed her. Until now. I walked past them, looked them in the eyes and smiled. I have absolutely no idea if they recognized me and if they did, I hope they know I forgive them. Boy that smashed his iPhone, I forgive you too.

Life’s too short. I’m happy.

Stuff everyone has enjoyed for ages but I have only just got really into

food, stuff

Now that I have taken a social media sabbatical, I know I’m a modern day martyr, I have loads more time to do stuff. Who would have thought? With this new found time and brain space I have started discovering loads of fun things I like doing, reading, listening to. Being offline also means I can’t publicize my blog posts or connect with you so that makes me a really shit blogger. Oops.

EDIT: I have just managed to add a lil contact box on the homepage so feel free to send your fan mail there.

Duo lingo: I’m learning French! Oui it is true. My Mum speaks fluent French and when I was little her and my Dad would switch to speaking in français to stop me understanding. I thought I’d learn the language just in case they start doing it again when I go and visit this weekend. French is a sexy language and apparently 34 hours spent on the app is the equivalent of a term of seminars at University. The app is free and soon I will be well on my way to being able to order a sandwich in Paris.

Refinery 29’s money diaries: I am absolutely obsessed with this feature on Refinery 29 where a modern day woman tracks her spending for the week and posts it for everyone to judge. I am pretty meticulous when it comes to managing my money and have a master spreadsheet of spendings and savings (I am a very fun person). I equally love finding out how other people spend their cash. The diaries are posted once or twice a week and are the perfect lunch break treat.

Spotify: I KNOW, HAVE I BEEN LIVING UNDER A ROCK? I have had Spotify for a while but haven’t ever utilized it properly. I now have a playlist for all occasions and keep adding to them. Now that I have my own office at work I have been listening to Radio 1 pretty much all day and finally have some modern music on my phone. My previous music collection consisted of 90’s bangers, club classics and musicals. Someone asking me to put some music on caused serious anxiety sweats because what if no-one else was interested in the Hamilton soundtrack? I’ve recently changed my account to a duo account with my gf which means a few extra quid saved a month and a free Google nest. Ours hasn’t arrived yet so I’m still not 100% sure that it isn’t a scam. C’est la vie.

Pick my postcode lottery: Talking of scams, this could also be a scam but if it’s not then you and I might win some money. Apparently there is only 2 people with my postcode registered and it hasn’t yet been picked so I live in hope. I expect a cut if you win big.

Sending emails: I have become e-pen pals with some long distance friends and it has been great being able to have real conversations with them and keeping each other posted on our news in a personal way rather than a Facebook status update. I absolutely love snail mail and this is a lush way of sending letters in a more accessible way. I tend to email them once every week or so and there is always so much to say and it is therapeutic too.

Trashy shows on Netflix: I highly recommend you watching the following shows immediately: Selling sunset, Below deck, Love at first sight and Too hot to handle. I’ve never been that into reality TV or soaps. Admittedly, I used to watch Eastenders but stopped after the dramatic Who shot Phil Mitchell saga. Sure I love a gritty crime thriller on BBC or a classic ITV 3 part drama but I would much rather watch rich people sell even richer people houses and outrageous people agreeing to marry each other without ever meeting until they’re engaged.

Podcasts: My current faves are – Shagged, married, annoyed, Off menu and Desert Island Discs. I listen whilst I cycle, walk, work, wash-up. I go through phases with podcasts but these 3 have stayed on my regular listens for a long time now.

Baking bread: Bread flour is back on the shelves people! I never want to try and make sourdough ever again after only 1 success and approx 186 failures during lock down and then our starter died. RIP. But no-one ever told me that making non-millennial bread can be fun and has a much higher success rate. We used this recipe and made bagels. Look here is a photo of Zoe taking a photo to prove it.