- I have blisters on my hands from… doing things. Like running the household. And building cheap furniture.
- Thinking of how to feed myself every single day is exhausting.
- How many times can I have tea and toast for dinner before people start judging me?
- My four-slice toaster with its “A little bit more” button is now my prized possession, and isn’t that just a little bit sad.
- I am terrible at adhering to a strict bedtime.
- My money seems to be mysteriously disappearing from my account. How very odd…
- HOW DO YOU FOLD A FITTED SHEET?!
- Finishing work and returning to a dark, empty, silent house is rather lonely.
- There’s a creepy-ass spider that I can see on my living room window. He’s on the outside, thank god, but still terrifying. In an attempt to align myself to his presence, I have decided to name him. He is called Marteen. That’s “Mar-teen”, like “martini” without the final “-ee”. It was originally “Martin”, but I decided to class it up a bit because I am very tired. (See point 5.)
- I still have boxes everywhere. Everywhere. Why do I own so much shit?
- Maybe I have a hoarding problem.
- But then at work, I have obsessive tendencies that lend themselves well to the task of tidying the drawers and under-counter spaces that haven’t seen the light of day in three years. If I could use that superpower in the task of unpacking, that’d be greeeeaaaat.
- Getting mail is much less exciting when it’s always bills.
- I’ve never used a gas oven before. Am I… am I going to get high? I’m probably going to get high.
- I thought I was so prepared, but as time goes on, I start noticing all the little things that I forgot to buy in preparation for moving out. Like an ironing board. The weird thing is, I remembered to get an iron.
- I miss hearing my Mum snore at night. And that’s something I never thought I’d say.
- Martine has just skulked back into view while I write this and now I am very distracted.
- “I should go to bed now but instead I’m going to stay on the computer for another four hours”. An autobiography.
– Love The Bad Guy