It’s been just over three weeks since BoJo pleaded with the British people to stay home, protect the NHS and save lives. For someone who has spent a good chunk of their adult life claiming not to be a people person, you could be forgiven for thinking that this was something of a dream come
Well then, folks. Here we are. Just when we thought 2020 couldn’t surprise us any further with its leap year and mass Australian bush fires, we now find that March 2020 falls right on the upward curve of a global pandemic. I’m logging on tonight just after the announcement that the UK will be enforcing
AKA how to fail at blogging for an entire month. It’s fair to say that 2020 has already kicked me in the arse and we’re only in March. It all started off so promisingly. I’d made a vow to myself to commit to writing as a creative outlet, while simultaneously juggling my day-to-day commitments as
And there’s every need to be afraid. Not only are we dangling on the precipice of another Conservative reign, the Christmas ads have hit the telly and we must now all frantically shop for meaningless gifts as if love and consumerism were one and the same. For the past four weeks since my post reminiscing
In nine days, I’ll be departing my current workplace and taking an unfamiliar plunge into a whole new territory, the like of which I’ve not seen in five years. That’s right. I’ve got a new job. Five years of working for some of the UK’s biggest FMCG brands, forging a path through the trials and
This was it. The big day. All was in hand. The dress fit like a dream, the shoes had arrived in time and unscathed, and I was ready to walk down the aisle polished and mentally prepared for the barrage of extended family that would inevitably follow post-ceremony. It’s a hard life being a wedding
Now is the season of impending nuptials. At least I think that’s what Shakespeare said. June is a month where at least two things are guaranteed to happen – neither of which include the bizarre combination of sunshine and thunderstorms that we’ve experienced in the North West of England over the past 24 hours: I’m
In between watching Game of Thrones, having my hair cut, and building my Beauty Bay wish list, I’m pleased to say I’ve had chance over the weekend to spend some quality time with my favourite (only) nephew and his ma. When I say quality time, I do of course mean time spent catching up
Despite having entered the age bracket where reproduction is basically obligatory, and pyjamas by 6:30pm is socially acceptable, on occasion I’m still invited out of the house to celebrate the fact that two adult humans have opted to spend the rest of their lives together. On Saturday (16th Feb), I was lucky enough to
I’m not sure whether it’s because I’m getting older, but lately I’ve found myself with an insatiable desire to get my shit together. There was a time when the mere idea of having a ‘routine’ on the weekend bored me to tears. What’s the use in having a routine when you could be hit
