My dreams don't have to scare me, fuck off

December 13, 2017

Look at my wanky quote

I went to an event at The Guardian about Generation Z. They’d carried out a survey with young people and shared the results, and then held a panel with some of those young people. The four of them were either at university or had just graduated, and I asked them: 

“I’m 24 and firmly in the middle of my quarter-life crisis *cue laughter from the room - thank you for rubbing my ego, i will live off this for at least three hours*. We’ve spoken a lot about education and careers this morning… I was just wondering if you had any other priorities and where they are on your list?”

Straight in at the deep end, no messing. 

Apart from one who briefly mentioned having a family would be important to her, the consensus was: Nope, career is pretty much everything, it’s what I focus on. 

It made me quite sad, and I'm not sure if I’m qualified to feel sad.


I, um, joined a running club

November 09, 2017

When I wrote my post on how to run after a marathon back in June, and detailed my new running goals, never did I even write in code that I wanted to join a running club. Because I didn’t. It was never even in the back of my mind. The thought of joining a running club was ridiculous. Why? Well, 1) I’m not that kind of runner, and 2) That would mean joining a CLUB and being DEDICATED and, more importantly, TALKING TO PEOPLE. 

No. I absolutely had no intention of joining a running club…

‘had’, being the word here… because I have… joined a running club, I mean… and I actually feel fine about it… 

I’m fickle, ok, you know this.


York, England (July 2017)

October 30, 2017

York Minster

It was time to venture up north. 

I’ve only been north of Birmingham (where my dad is from) a handful of times, and most of those times were when I was small so we could have been anywhere, I wouldn’t have known… Well, that’s a lie. I’ve always been obsessed with maps and, before the times of phones, apps, and SatNavs, I used to track our journeys in the back of the car with my finger running along the motorway. My dad had a big, black leathered map book that we used to replace every Christmas for him from WHSmith, and I loved our car running off the page and having to frantically find the next page for the next part of the journey.

WHAT A NERD. Anyway the point is, we more often went down south rather than up north, so Ryan and I decided that our next British getaway would take the plunge upwards to the land of hills and cheap house prices.

mental health

Have the damn lunch break #WMHD17

October 10, 2017

Regent's Park, my lunch break

I read something a while ago from a guy who was moaning about millennials (that quota is now full, just so you’re aware) and their work ethics. Millennials are lazy, unmotivated, entitled, with dodgy values and priorities. They turn up to work and leave on time, they don’t check their work emails on the weekends, they take a FULL HOUR for their lunch break, and they don’t answer work calls outside of working hours. No mention of avocado, but almost a full house on my Millennials Bingo card, how about you?

It was slated, obviously, but it’s something I think about a lot, because I grew up surrounded by archaic work ethics that were drummed into me from childhood. I must work every day. I must say ‘yes’ and do as I’m told. I must never take a day off sick, I must not take all my annual leave, I must not moan about my pay or my workload. I must work overtime if it’s offered to me, I must be prepared to go above and beyond, I must be available outside of my working hours to show my dedication and flexibility. I must put as much money as I can into a pension, and I must work my way up the ladder until all that’s left is the empty drop at the top.

mental health

Uni, mental health, and a break-in to *not* be saved

September 27, 2017

Bournemouth, 2014

I remember sitting at my desk with a bunch of bananas and two boxes of cereals bars, one open. I’d eaten half a bar then put it back, telling myself I’d have it for dinner later. I hadn’t stepped out of my tiny bedroom in days.

I’ve never spoken in detail about how bad my mental health was at university - especially during the first year - because I’m still learning myself just how bad it actually was. I didn’t enjoy university. That I knew and everyone knows. But fully understanding how unhealthy my thoughts and behaviours were is a long process, and quite hard to stomach. I’m open and honest about my mental health. I’m open and honest about a lot of things (I mean, I literally wrote about my GP putting her finger up my arse, so), but these thoughts and behaviours were often ridiculous and embarrassing and horrible, so I’ve never wanted others to know I was like that. 

But it’s the end of September and a lot of young people will be experiencing their first few weeks at university right now, and I feel such a sense of dread knowing there may be a lot of young people out there who might be about to experience their first year just as I did. The first few weeks at uni are such an integral time to not get ‘right’, as such, but to just fucking survive in a healthy way. Thoughts, attitudes, and behaviours in the first few weeks could set you up for the rest of your time at university. ‘Could’ being the imperative word here, because I’m learning now that nothing is ever set in stone. You can change. You’re always learning. I didn’t know that, and boy I wish I did.