It's been an interesting week. What started with a wave of horrible anxiety then led to food poisoning/a stomach bug, leaving me weak and having surely already reached my 2019 puke quota. I kept thinking I was better on both counts, but..nope. More crying, more inability to eat food other than toast. I could make… Continue reading When two tribes go to war
If, like me, you were greeted by the above question when logging into Facebook recently, you'd be forgiven for feeling pretty conflicted about your answer. So what do I think about Facebook? Do I love it or hate it? Or, to rephrase: on balance, has it done me more harm than good? I decided to reflect on it further.
2019 has already been supremely gratifying, as it's confirmed that my existence pisses of Piers Morgan, which is absolutely delightful. Yes, the man who's given us such compassionate, intelligent and socially-minded tweets as ‘I’m planning a ‘Men’s March’ to protest at the creeping global emasculation of my gender by rabid feminists’ has been at the… Continue reading Greggs-Sausage-Roll-Gate and those bloody vegans
January is about soups and spreadsheets. You may think it's about gym memberships, dry January, Veganuary (woohoo), facing the soul-crushing reality of going back to work whilst desperately crawling towards payday, but you'd be wrong. For me at least, it's soup and spreadsheets. Let me explain.
Meet the parents. 3 small words, a shitload (literally) of anxiety. I'm not talking about his parents. His parents were fine. I jumped in head first by meeting them for the first time in August. By going on holiday with them. For a week. Oh and there was a language barrier. But somehow I didn't… Continue reading Meet. The. Parents.
Okay, full disclosure here. I've been so tired this week after moving that I sobbed for two hours because I made a stain on the worktop. So I just want to feel relaxed and Christmassy, and am looking forward to a weekend that includes a MUPPET CHRISTMAS CAROL SINGALONG! Which naturally led me to… Continue reading ‘Tis the season to be jolly and joyous
I'm moving on Saturday. It's a long story, but all you really need to know is that our soon-to-be former landlord has proved himself to be totally cretinous. Imagine a landlord version of gaslighting, where despite all behavioural (and legal) evidence to the contrary, he tries to convince you that you are in fact doing him a massive disservice by, for instance, asking that your deposit be protected. He believes that he can't possibly be a dodgy landlord because, and I quote, 'I've never asked you to pay in cash'. SIGH. Anyway, my housemates and I are looking forward to the day when a text from our landlord no longer induces a migraine, and this Saturday are moving to what promises to be a delightful little house in Tottenham.