It’s Gonna Be May (this post has basically nothing to do with the election)

With May hurtling towards us (the month not Theresa), I have spent the last couple of weeks coming to terms with the fact that I will be 24 imminently. It wasn’t so much this sobering reality that took a lot of coming to terms with as a hangover that long overstayed its welcome coupled with a spell of moping about things like not having enough money, not having a steady job, not having matching eyebrows, this sort of thing. The announcement of a snap election practically rendered me bedridden. Anyway, even I was starting to get bored of talking about being a jobless cliché so you can imagine my relief when I finally got a batch of exciting emails. Hurray! Hurrah! I don’t mind having a little boast and saying that I personally think my cover-lettering skills are notdog typing gifhing short of expert at this point, so it is very nice to have some reassurance. Anyway, with a job interview here, a meeting with someone important (and in no way as a result of nepotism*) there, I march towards May with a spring in my step and a snap in my election (sorry).

While I was in my recent funk, I stopped being as sociable as usual and became rubbish with emails and phone calls, and it made me realise how much of my wellbeing comes from letting the people in my life cheer me up in times of need. Similarly, I was reminded that when it comes to trying to establish yourself in any kind of way, persistence and resilience are key. My key to regaining resilience after a period of rejection/dejection/hangovers fresh out of the jaws of Lucifer himself is basically this: Do something nice for yourself whether you’ve been shit or not. Being kind to yourself shouldn’t operate on a system of reward. You deserve clean sheets/brunch/night out (not always a great idea, use your best judgment) whether you’ve been a fully functioning human being or you’ve let everything go to shit in the space of 48 hours. Otherwise—and this is tried and tested—you end up accumulating all sorts of feelings of worthlessness that simply pile up into a heap of worry. Why I feel the need to turn preachy like this is frankly beyond me but it’s my blog so I’ll do what I want.


I have been single for five months which is comparatively unusual for me. Please do not for one minute assume that this is due to my being very good at relationships: on the contrary, dear reader, I am extremely very very bad at them, and use them as a way of deflecting from my own issues and providing companionship when it would be much healthier to work on myself. If any of my ex boyfriends are reading this they have probably died of shock at reading such a confession. However, in my wizened old age with 24 looming and the crows circling overhead, now is the time to make peace with the truth. Ha ha hahaha.

Anyway I’m 70% sure 24 is going to be my year, complete with a job, a normal sleeping pattern and doing classy things like saving money or going home after two glasses of wine and reading a book, but if history is anything to go by I’ll be delivered to my mum the day after my birthday needing to be hosed down and fed dry toast. I can’t wait. I’m still very happy, and very funny giflucky to be surrounded by friends and family who have had to sometimes put up with a lot and still provide constant support and amusement. Hashtag #blessed I know but hey, it’s summer (kind of), there are dogs in the world, and everything’s going to be fine [as long as Trump doesn’t blow us all to smithereens]

*disclaimer: I have ruled that if Theresa May is allowed to ruin everybody’s summer to a greater or lesser extent then some nepotistic job hunting tactics may be deployed in times of dire need, especially when one has exhausted other, more principled resources.

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