When Adulting Goes Wrong

Do you ever do things like wear matching underwear, have un-chipped nails and slam through your to-do list… and realise just HOW great you are at being an adult? And then in contrast have weeks like I’ve had this week.

Weeks where you have 65p in the bank, cupboards full of half-meals – sausage casserole ingredients without sausages, eggs but nothing to go with, pasta bake but no pasta.

Weeks where the laundry is piling up, your clean clothes and dirty becoming as one as the floor-drobe runs out of room. The dishes need doing. Times have become desperate, you’re eating your tea with a spoon because CEEBS.

Weeks where your hair goes a day or two too many between washes. Or when you check the contents of the fridge to discover something way way way¬†out of date. Weeks when your monthly tram ticket runs out two days before payday, or you spill your smoothie all over your keyboard at work, as if the universe is sending you cues to just quit trying to be the health nut you’re so obviously not.

How about when you can’t remember the last time your nails were painted because WHEN would you find time?! Or when you forget to wear your glasses and spend an entire day feeling like you’re in a bubble away from the rest of the world because it’s so¬†blurry.

Weeks where you realise you don’t even own a plain black t-shirt, right at the moment you need to shove one on and dash out of the door. Weeks where all your tights are laddered, except you don’t know until you’ve tried every single pair on. Weeks where you can’t find a single pair of matching socks, never mind underwear.

Adulting is bloody hard. And this week? I’m shit at it.

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