Twenty Seven and Counting

It’s been a few days since I sat at my laptop and didn’t immediately engage Netflix so I thought I’d change up my routine. I am currently sitting procrastinating when I should be doing an assignment, which is due on Tuesday. So far today I have taken my mother shopping, been to the library, placed a few bets, had a nap, ate some junk food, tidied my room and pondered having a capsule wardrobe because it looks like a cool thing to do. And who doesn’t want to be cool? (Also, when did I start living the life of a 16 year old?)

However, on perusal of my wardrobe contents I have an awful feeling it is going to be another thing I talk about for weeks before I actually seriously consider doing it. What is it about clothes that makes it so difficult to part with them? Is it the financial investment that was made? Surely it can’t just be about the money spent? There are unworn coats, mediocre t-shirts and tiny dresses that I wouldn't get over one tit hanging in my bespoke wardrobe (cupboard on top of the stairs) gracefully collecting dust and I don’t even recall how much I paid for them. I trawled through countless Instagram hashtags to get some inspiration but all I found were ethereal, delicate people with gorgeous, expensive clothing, leading dream like existences. Fucking hell, jog on.

I’m not sure if I can part with the clothes that make me feel a little better when I am having a fat day, or that I wear to wash the car, or the vast collection of pjs that I have on hand to give to drunk friends when we barrel to my house at 6am after many shots (which needs to happen again soon). I guess if that doesn't put me in the category of cool, thats okay. 

HURRAY! I am awake before 12pm. A miracle I tell you. A miracle and joint effort from my three family members who all did their bit by texting, ringing and physically coming into my room to make sure I was in the land of the living. Okay, so I’m still in bed but at least I didn’t go back to sleep. This may seem trivial but it’s actually a big tick in the box for me so I’m going to have some hash browns to pat myself on the head for not starting the day as a total slug.

This blog was intended to be sarcastic and light hearted when I initially thought about it but that isn’t how it seems to be going at the minute. I mean yes, I am in a funk and creatively I feel fucking useless but christ, lighten up right? Well if it were that easy, I’m sure we would all be floating around singing Katrina and the Waves and eating candy floss, rather than drinking miserable green tea and playing The Smiths on repeat. 

Yes, it is. I have taken the plunge and decided to write a blog. Why? Why does anyone write a blog? To become internet famous and have a Youtube channel and book deal and…Yeah.

I don’t think I’m cool enough to become internet famous. The reason for this blog is to flex my creative muscles and to throw myself at the mercy of the Internet and the trolls that live within it. There is also the potential risk that I realise I am shit and I need to find another career path immediately. Cue 4th mid life crisis of my twenties…

I’m starting to get into the flow a bit although I still feel canny awkward. It’s just like a diary I guess, so with that being said I won’t be censoring myself. If you aren’t fond of swearing, vulgarity, sarcasm and over sharing, feel free to click past me. I’ll never know anyway.