* Written in retrospect due to lifestyle acuity *
As heading pics go, there is zero point to this. I binged Killing Eve.
Begin retrospective note call it, 2019 maybe?
Well that was a marvellous shitstorm wasn't it? Since the long-since penned journey of our Turkish misadventures, at least. I think I'd rather be navigating those elegant headless mannequins, having actually had to adult once more. It leaves a peculiar taste in one's mouth.
What's happened since?
1. I've proven myself worthy of having responsibility to be registered with a certain governing body.
I mean, really it was primarily about having the opportunity to dress like a drunken Scottish rainbow had thrown up over me, had a fight with the reflection then sent me on a crash course after tear arsing it across a platform shaking a Dean’s hand, to what can only be described as finishing school dressed in blues. I didn't deck it this time; the graduation, not the latter (depending on who you may ask).
2. I've definitely managed to piss a lot more people off than actively having tried to, but more on that at some point later. Not (exclusively) paid adulting related, may I (blatantly self-disclaimer) add.
This wee point barely necessitates a discussion, it's more or less a given. Presenting to you the love child of an angry opinionated gobshite centaur with the goddess of the social foot-in-mouth. Typifying the good grace with which I perpetually navigate the social nuances of barely giving a shit about exchanging pleasantries. In fact, that's probably enough on that.
3. Made a splendid decision to professionally adult on the moon. And other equally as well thought out life changing decisions.
I'm being dramatic. A tad. Safe to say I think I was good a fit as that dress that I last fit in aged 20, and held onto for the succeeding 12 years. Just to be sure. The kind of dress that would raise more than an eyebrow were you to be stopped by the plod, only made for the BMI that didn't break the hearts and souls of generations of Boots weighing scales patrons (those fecking machines!). Made for the actual BMI 18s, rather than the backwards body dysmorphic “it'll fit me again I'm sure”. Yes, quite like that dress. Only it was with sadness I ditched my daily moon commute, due to having some very fond times. I met some corking souls with belly laughs bigger than both my belly and my laughs, and you don't ever lose touch with those beauties, especially the ones that have nailed your brew just so. The dress just did not quite fit.
Things that didn't make it onto the 2019 list, but still happened:
• I did an actual human relationship.
•70 more unanticipated house plants, total count 200ish
•Michael the creepy charity shop baby bust
•Small still alive, go me!
More on my discoveries, delights and shambolic decision making in my next post. You lucky wee prawns 😂
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