“I’ve had a hard day, I deserve a stiff drink tonight!”
“I’m tired, better have a sugar hit.”
“It’s Mars Bar Monday/donut Tuesday/cupcake Wednesday/TIm Tim Thursday/scotch on the rocks Friday!”
Any of these one-liners sound familiar?
That is the bloody big question. This blog. My life. Adulting. Not quite adulting. Not wanting to adult what-so-ever but having to do it anyway. I’m not going to bore you with what you already know here, but today’s post revolves around something 99% of the world have a serious addiction to. That morning brew. Liquid gold. “I can’t function until I have a cup”. Yep – I’m talking about coffee.
Ok, let’s have a moment of honesty here. Who am I kidding, this whole blog is filled with shameless honesty (that I should probably sometimes be a little ashamed about…). I’m not so great when it comes to this whole blogging thing. Content quality – yeah I guess that’s alright (going by the feedback all of your rad, rad people give me), but frequency? Shameful.
“Well what a big year 2015 has been!” The first line of any typical Christmas letter/email hundreds of thousands of people type out every year to send to their nearest and dearest…as well as basically anyone they’ve ever met long enough to scrawl down their postal or email address and add to the Christmas card list.
Today I stuffed up. Well not specifically today – today it was brought to my attention that I stuffed up. This particular ‘stuff up’ happened weeks ago; so long ago, in fact, that it now can’t really be fixed. It is what it is, and all I can do is accept that it happened and live with the fact I made a mistake.
Those born in Year of the Adult have a reputation of being organised, committed and responsible. Adults are known for turning down a boozy night out for a sophisticated restaurant meal or an evening spent on the couch; both of which end in heading to bed before 10pm. Adults may often seem irritated, exhausted and overworked, and whilst they may seem financially secure from the outside of their recently purchased and extremely moderate home, they are well accustomed to the term ‘mortgage’ and the phrase ‘I can’t afford to do that at the moment’.
We’ve all heard the phrase. In fact, as soon as the words “I’m not angry…” escape from anyone’s lips, you most often find your legs violently propelling you in the opposite direction, or at the very least, suddenly discover something ridiculously interesting on the end of your big toe.
No matter how old I am, I would much rather my parents be angry with me than disappointed. In fact, I’d prefer anyone be the former over the latter.