Some things, in the course of 2017 slowly trickling into 18, have changed. My favourite coffee shop is now Caffe Nero instead of Costa. Instead of catching the 34 bus, I catch the 142. My hair is short again. I take fluoxetine instead of sertraline. And I’m a student again. Continue reading “A new year and an old story.”
All I tweet about nowadays is the bus. I am on the bus for at least three hours a day. Sometimes, in the morning, I wish it was longer, because when you’re on the bus, you’re not in work.
So I’m on the bus, or I’m in work, and then I get home at various times of the evening and have tea and talk to my housemates and play with the hamster and read the internet and catch up on TV and have a shower and go to bed. I am dramatic about this, but this is everyone’s schedule, minus the hamster and maybe plus a dog or cat or child. I missed a Trump protest in my town, I’ve only seen one of the Oscar-nominated films this year, and at the weekends I sleep all day and then watch, like, half a horror film over a takeaway before going to sleep again, this time while it’s dark outside. Also I’m worrying about work the whole time and sometimes I’ll remember while my hamster is climbing up my arm or The Undateables is on and it’s like suddenly remembering a crime you’re on the run from. Like the end of The Sopranos. Continue reading “Too busy to write?”