Because writing this last year has taught me that everyone does these things. And it also helps me justify why my dishes are piling up, and that it’s OK to not hang my new clothes up just yet.
Hey, it’s OK… Again.
When you still don’t know where you’re heading with life. It really doesn’t always matter.
To sit in just your knickers and vest and eat five ice cream’s in one sitting. It’s totally fine.
When all you talk about is your cat. Because he’s your housemate – and does things that really do need sharing.
To pretend you have plans to your friends in the evening, so you can really just go home, pop on your pyjamas and curl up in bed with a film, ignoring all incoming messages.
If you don’t wash up for a few days and instead pile it ‘neatly’. Because that’s still being tidy?
To type a huge email at work with your boss thinking that you’re contacting a customer, when really you’re telling the girls all about your weekend. Monday’s need making better.
When you can’t remember who you told what to, and get excited every single time you re-mention it.
To smile sweetly at the checkout lady in the supermarket and upon her puzzled look, mention that ‘yes, this food shop is for my family of three’. Nope. It’s all for me.
When your daybed gets so filled up with clothes that your rail just becomes an empty rail for the week.
To eat the same dinner for four days running. Yes. All the sweet potato and butternut squash.
To not have all the money in the world. Life can still definitely be enjoyed.
When you pretend you’re listening to someone but actually you’re just wondering what your cat is up to right now.
Crying to your mama like you’re a child still. Because sometimes you miss living at home.
Wearing matching sexy (sometimes uncomfortable) underwear everyday, when you’re single, because you worry you may get hit by a bus. And the doctor could be cute. And you don’t want to miss an opportunity.
To not be OK. But equally, it’s totally OK to be OK too.
And to smile at everyone.
Unless you’ve got chocolate in between your teeth. Then smile like you’re constipated.
Actually, maybe just wave.
Unless your alright-looking neighbour already thinks you’re a fruit loop. Then don’t wave either.