Tuesday 22nd January 2019

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Now, I’ve got to assume that my audience here has some form of social media. Whether you spend your days retweeting Teigen or, like me, dwell for hours over which cleavage shot best fills your Insta feed, it’s rare to find someone without some form of online presence. The thing I’ve noticed about social platforms in the more recent months (and even years) is the amount of people in my ‘friends’ list announcing their latest and greatest news; more often than not, that they are engaged, married or with child. And when I say ‘friends’ list here, please note that a fair portion of these people are either those that I met at a holiday resort 11 years ago or the vast collection of rugby players that I cyber-friended when I was in my late teens and a state of horniness and desperation. Anyway, everyone’s doing it; am I right? And I’m thrilled for them (those of them that I actually know, anyway). Most of the time.

Admittedly, it’s always hard the first couple of times when your pals from the playground or those of a similar age to you start making monumental life choices and you’re reading their news half cut on a Saturday morning, gorging on leftover cheesy chips for breakfast and wondering where on earth you’ve left your debit card. But it is so important to remember, especially when your news feed is chocka block with diamond rings and sonograms, that everyone moves at completely different paces and you CAN be happy and supportive of your peers without comparing yourself to them.


Besides, am I really mom-ready? Sure, I listen to Radio 2 whenever I’m behind the wheel and often even laugh at Simon Mayo’s jokes, but I’ve also been known to accidentally kill cacti in surprisingly small periods of time. And I’ve given both myself and my partner food poisoning in the last 18 months. Plus, I already live with a toddler trapped in the body of a thirty-year-old rugby player. I am well versed in cooking all of his meals, reminding him to brush his teeth, cleaning up after him and taking on his chores when he inevitably forgets, week in, week out. Responsibility for another human life is beyond my means at present.


Whilst the idea of being piped down the aisle in a long, white and probably low cut dress cries out in desperation to me, my mum had to bail me out and pay for my new car battery just last month because a week after payday I had £40 to my name. And, y’all, I have been planning my wedding since I was 13 years old and I’m going to need a lot more than £40. Despite the old saying that there will never be a perfect time to unintentionally get knocked up, I struggle to believe that the good lord would bless me with a child in my current state; 24, potentially alcoholic, serious social smoker, childlike live-in boyfriend, penchant for breakfast hot dogs and with the crippling habit of accidentally spending multiple month’s wages on coats that I can’t afford. It will never stop me from building my wedding Pinterest empire and persistently sending my boyfriend pictures that I’ve taken in jewellery shop windows, though.


So a bloody Happy Tuesday from me. It finally seems like I’m kicking this flu in the bollocks, although you’d never be able to tell based on my complexion and temperament. I am determined to really behave like an adult and have a productive week after spending so long with my duvet (it’s a miracle I’m not ridden with bed sores) and really get shit done. I hope yours is as gorgeous as can be.



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