Slight return

So. It’s been a while.

And actually, quite a lot has happened.

There were times when I thought, ‘Ooh, I could write about that…’, but didn’t. Obviously, or it would be right underneath this post.

I’ve kind of missed it. Whether anyone has missed reading it is obvs a different story – but I don’t particularly mind. I wrote either because I found it therapeutic; because I fancied a rant and no one was in ranting distance; or simply because I quite liked doing it. Anyone reading it was a pleasant bonus/slightly awkward, depending on the subject matter and whether the reader was my mum (hi, mum).

Anyway, yes, Things Happened.

I turned 30. In a typically over-dramatic fashion, natch. WOE IS ME, I’M ANCIENT, MY LIFE IS OVER – and so on and so forth. But actually, my 30s have been pretty brilliant so far; largely for the reasons below (which don’t actually have anything to do with me being 30, it’s just chronological coincidence; but still – for anyone in their 20s reading this: panic ye not. You’ll be fine. And I don’t hate you, much). Some things haven’t changed: I still get asked for ID, but the cashier now either reacts in horror or pisses themselves laughing – it’s a real ego boost. And I can’t hear my biological clock ticking. NO I CAN’T. Shut up.

I got a new job. A grown-up job, with lunch breaks and a commute* and everything. I no longer get up in the middle of the night, although I’m still tired 95% of the time; and I no longer earn peanuts, although I’m still skint 96% of the time.

I bought a flat. Miraculous, really, based on my financial record, but I absolutely adore it. Although I’ll fight anyone who tries to suggest I’m a grown up.** Side note: be very, very thankful I wasn’t blogging 18-20 months ago – every post would have been about my couch. I was OBSESSED by my couch. The salesman was genuinely disturbed (I only told him I dreamt about it some*** nights).

I embarked on approximately 500 diets/fitness regimes. I’m still exactly the same shape and size. Cheese and wine are my nemesises. Nemesi? Ok, two true loves which can never, ever be denied.

I met a boy (man). A really, really nice boy (man). Not too nice, as initially (just for a short amount of time, I swear) feared; just the right amount. He moved in. He let me throw out all of his socks with holes in them (26 individual socks. 26! He must have the pointiest toes known to man). Ok, he didn’t know about it til afterwards, but then he didn’t mind. Much. So aye, it’s all going pretty swimmingly.

I got glasses. For most people this is really dull/mildly annoying/a sign of getting old, but anyone who knew me when I was much, much younger (again, hi mum) knows that I used to REALLY want glasses. No, I don’t know why either but we’re talking ‘fake it in eye tests/make my own out of toilet roll tubes/pipe cleaners and cling film’-want them; so it makes the list. (I know what you’re thinking: I’ve always been really cool. Guess some folk are just born with it.)

I did a bunch of other stuff, but let’s not make this the longest post of all time. Maybe I’ll tell you about some of it sometime. Or maybe I’ll just do some new stuff, and write about that*****. Ooh, aren’t I a tease.

*Follow me on Twitter for regular abuse of Scotrail.

**A blatant lie, I couldn’t fight my way out of a paper bag. Or into one. Or near one.

***Most.****

****Ok, every.

*****Or maybe I won’t write anything else for another year and a bit, but at least then the first word on my homepage won’t be ‘TITS’.

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