I’m baaaaack

Hello my lovelies, remember me? Okay, probably not…but I brought biscuits, which I will now eat all by myself.

So… where do I even start? I guess my life changed so much, and in all of the chaos, I lost myself a little bit. My engagement fell apart (I’ve only mentioned it a thousand times) and I got a new job so I just felt a little overwhelmed.

It’s been two years since my relationship broke up. I have zero contact with my ex, which is probably for the best. I suffered a long of PTSD, where the months and months of gaslighting and lies kind of caught up to me and I realised I could never be friends with someone who abused me so much. It’s not like he even really cared when I cut contact. In fact, I think now it’s what he wanted all along. It’s just sad that he’s a stranger to me now but c’est la vie.

Dating was amazing in the beginning. I met so many interesting men and had some wonderful experiences. Some of them are still my friends. But it got repetitive. I found I was never really fully on the same page as most guys. It was either ‘I’m not looking for anything at all’ or ‘I want a wife and kids’. I am very much the ‘I’m not exactly looking but I’ll see how it goes’ type. I don’t rule anything out because you just don’t know, do you?

I’m seeing someone now, but I am taking it in absolute baby steps and not labelling it or even discussing it. It’s a totally non-traditional thing, because I guess the ‘normal’ way didn’t really work out for me and I have all kinds of trust and commitment issues. Luckily, I’ve met a guy who is very patient, very kind and very, very hot. I’m going to brag about that because I can. And so much fun. He makes me stupidly happy and even if it’s not the most traditional of relationships, it really really works for us. Last night, I slept completely wrapped up in him and feeling safer and happier than I have in years.

And my job… well, my job is amazing! I’m still teaching and loving it. I still live where I live with my beautiful pets. I’ve tried so many new experiences over the last two years and have really begun to understand who I actually am outside of a relationship. I genuinely have never felt so happy and fulfilled. But I want to get back to blogging. It made me genuinely very zen and I enjoyed it so much so we’ll see. I guess my commitment issues extend to this now too 🙈

So, whoever you are, I want to hear about you. Come talk to me while I finish these chocolate chip cookies.

Do We Ever Really Get Our Shiz Together?

I’ll be the grand old age of thirty two in a few weeks. Thirty two seems absolutely ancient to me, considering I had always assumed I’d be at least married with three kids, multiple generations of golden retrievers and living in a house I could ill-afford but it has a veranda and it’s mine so who gives a crap?! Well…that didn’t happen. My relationship status could be described as more complicated than quantum mechanics explained through hieroglyphics, I have zero golden (or otherwise) retrievers and the only thing I own is a pair of Nikes that I’ve already scuffed because I can’t take care of pretty things (or houseplants, FYI). I don’t save money, I just had a jar of Nutella for my supper and there’s a spider living in my shower that has taken control of my bathroom to the point that I ask his permission before I pee (his name is Sebastian and he appreciates common courtesy). Basically, I’m an overgrown woman-child who probably shouldn’t be allowed to use adult scissors without supervision. In my defense, those mother effers are SHARP.

I always assumed that I would reach a certain age in my early twenties and BAM I’d level up and know how to adult. My day would consist of a seamless routine of healthy eating, classical music, being evangelical about the deliciousness of avocados, drinking half a glass of Malbec, picking up children (presumably, my own) from activities like décolletage and ballet, and cooking a tasty yet nutritious meal (see: avocados) for my appreciative family who would then serenade me with a nighttime song before bed (my hypothetical children are indeed the Von Trapps). Instead, any semblance of routine is nonexistent. I have a job, which I adore and…well, that’s it. There are no Disney children, no spinning classes, no lunchtime tipple with Sandra whom I rotate the school run with. I get up, throw on whatever clothes I’ve decided to wash, lament the rotten avocado in my dustbin, go to work (I do adore my job), come home, work some more and basically collapse. Sometimes I’ll exercise, binge watch Queer Eye and maybe make a sandwich. I’ll WhatsApp audio my friends with the fascinating details of my day ‘my favourite stapler broke…but stand down, I fixed it.’ When it comes to anything approaching adulterific (see: Oxford English Dictionary, probably), like bills or errands, I get it done but in the most chaotic and least seamless way possible. Don’t get me wrong, I have no debt, I have no major stresses or issues when it comes to my personal or financial life, but that’s not to say it isn’t difficult. I have a pile of clothes in the corner of my room that basically looks like some kind of textile Everest. I have a press of expired cans of beans that I assumed I would need in case of some kind of zombie apocalypse. My heating has been broken since Obama was in office. There is zero organization in any part of my home. I realise I’m not alone here, but I also realise there are countless people my own age who are just more…adult. They have savings, they have health insurance, they have orthodontists for crying out loud! Do you ever look at some people your age who just seem so together and think how the hell do they do it?

For me, adulthood is the realisation that you’re entirely responsible for yourself. There’s no one else who’s going to pay those bills, or get that boiler fixed. Sure, you might have a supportive partner or even parents who are always willing to lend a hand, but when push comes to shove, it’s all you boo. And it’s tough. I mean, I know that’s all part of growing up. And it’s exciting in its own frightening way. And I’m far too old now to be complaining about what are really my own responsibilities, and simple enough ones at that. It’s just…I often wonder… will I ever have this adult thing down to a fine art?

The answer is probably NO. I think, like most people, I’ll always struggle a little. When I was a child, I viewed adults as absolutely infallible. They were, in my gullible eyes, were beyond fault. I know now what I didn’t know then: that I make mistakes every day. That I’m still scared, that I’m still foolish (at times 👀) and that I’m still learning and growing. And I think that’s a lifelong thing. There is no moment in life when everything finally comes together and you’re presented with some grand prize for finally having your sh*t together. I’m maturing everyday (though do not point out a Great Tit bird to me without expecting a bashful giggle). Most importantly of all, I’m happy. I’m happier than I’ve ever been and really, isn’t that what matters most of all? Well, that and cats wearing top hats. So maybe I’ll never be a boss at adulting, but doesn’t the world need people like me who can’t figure out what a tracker mortgage is? DOESN’T IT?!

So tell me, can you adult good? And if so, maybe share some tips while I try and stay inside the lines while I colour.

This Post Doesn’t Even Merit a Title

WELL HELLLOOOOO THERE! I’m shouting because I’m so excited! It’s been so long… actually, it’s been so long I’m sure most of you have forgotten me and need reminding of who I actually am. Here’s a few prompts to get your head muscles tingling:

Cats, tequila, bad dancing, puns…

Remember me now?! No? Okay, that’s fine. Expect your dead squirrel in the mail in five to six working days. Lol, I kid. (It’ll be a live squirrel and he’ll do tricks for you.)

So…I don’t even know where to start. I guess I should start with a logical rundown on my life since I last posted since I know you all care so much. *tumbleweed… wolf howl… cricket*

-I love my job very much and feel very privileged to work in such an amazing school. I’m so happy there.

-I can’t really post about my love life but it’s all good. DM me hun 😘

-One of my dogs sadly passed away. Miss you everyday, Molly.

-I got an SUV and honestly, I’m too small for it but who cares. I feel like Cher in Clueless.

-I have to move house which has made me all kinds of antsy but illbefineomgihopeso

-My friends are amazing. That’s not really news, per se, but I just felt it needed to be said. They’re my big yellow umbrella.

Wow, I actually don’t really know what else to say. I’ve been so consumed with work, there hasn’t been time for much else, except the occasional glass of Malbec and gyration to Queen. Life is funny like that; sometimes you just live it. Months have flown by, I’ve been living alone (to an extent) and it’s been great. Other than a few minor stresses, I’ve been good. Some would say zen (except for when I get stuck behind slow moving traffic and then the sewer mouth is just unstoppable).

So, come say hi to me! I miss you all. I’m officially the world’s worst blogger but at least I’m excelling at mediocrity, right? You’re welcome, mom. 💕

Tell me what’s been going on in your world while I embroider like the lady of a medieval castle twerk to Kendrick Lamar.

I’m the Worst Sick Person

I currently have some kind of head cold/chest infection thing that is making me feel like my head is stuffed with nails and or golf balls. It sucks. But I’m also just a terrible, terrible patient. I get the sniffles? Well, it must be Ebola. I get a muscle pain? Well, it must be some degenerative condition that will render me limbless in six months. Right now, I’m lying on my sofa wailing intermittently while surrounded by tissues and cats.*

I have always been a bad sick person. I mean, you’re not really sick unless you mention it at least thirty times a day, amirite? And you can hardly be expected to help yourself, so it’s essential that someone waits on you hand and foot, serving you hot whiskey and toast while you watch re-runs of Project Runway. Fluid intake is key to a swift recovery. And I’m sure my loved ones wouldn’t want me to die right? RIGHT?

So, tell me about your weekend? *twirls hair* What ya up to? I’ll listen while crying into my whiskey.

*Well, two cats. But they’re on either side of me, so….

This is the worst post I’ve ever ‘written’

So hello there friends! How have you all been? I’m good! I’m getting super excited for Christmas and also not knitting. I said *not* knitting, so nothing new there. I may have just invented a new tongue twister.

Aaaanyway, I just wanted to stop by to say hello and to spread some positivity and love. I feel like Julie Andrews on Prozac because I just freakin love this time of year. Everybody “it’s the most wonderful time of the yeaaarrr” and I’m gonna stop now because I don’t quite know the lyrics so I’ll just hum instead…

So what’s new with me?

Well, I’m still working. I just got drunk at my staff party but that’s okay because it’s basically expected of me at this stage. I am busy trying to plan my wedding (I say my, because I may as well be marrying myself), I’m buying things I can’t afford, I’m learning French and I just ate two packets of crisps and I hate myself. Standard really.

What about you?? How you doin’? Wait, that sounded a little pervy. How are you? *tilts head to the side* did that sound more sincere?

Remember, you’re only as old as your bra size… and hey, if that’s like 40 FF, at least you have big boobs, right? RIGHT?

Advice on a Sunday Night 

Why, hello there. Fancy meeting you here. 

Here in Ireland, it’s Sunday night which means that the majority of us are doing two things: 

  • Sobbing over a takeaway while watching trash TV 
  • Freaking out over the coming week 

For a long time, that was exactly what I would have been doing (give or take a bottle of wine and a unicorn onesie). I absolutely dreaded Mondays. I would go so far as to say that Sunday nights were filled with intense anxiety and utter fear. 

To deal with this, I really worked on identifying why I was so anxious. I also worked on identifying things in my life that I am lucky for and that I have regardless of what day of the week it is. 

If you dread Mondays and the week ahead to an extent that you feel fearful or panicked, you must ask yourself whether you are in the right job or career for you. Many of us find ourselves in jobs that we really grow to dislike. There really is nothing worse. I was in a job for over two years that I absolutely loathed. I felt I couldn’t leave it because I had moved far away to take it, it paid well and it was in my chosen career. But it made me miserable. I cried constantly, I had perpetual knots in my stomach and I was depressed beyond belief. It was a difficult decision to leave, but I did. I ended up finding a job that I adore and I feel so lucky to be able to get up every Monday morning. There was a time when I wasn’t able to, so I appreciate it more than I can express.

Some people live for the weekend (I do love my weekends!). The problem is that we often put too much stock in our weekends, to the point that we often wish away the days of the week; days where we often accomplish amazing things (in my case, beating my high score in Candy Crush. WIN-NING). I often think, when we are on our death beds or maybe someday ruefully looking back on the days we wasted, we would take any idle Thursday or Monday and live it again. All the days of our lives are a wonderful gift that we shouldn’t wish away. We will only live tomorrow’s Monday once. If you are getting up to go to work, or indeed getting up at all, you are lucky. I know, I know, try telling me that at 6 am in the freezing cold, right? But trust me, you will look back on the days that now appear mundane and pointless and you will appreciate their value. And anyway, those weekends when you relax and unwind feel so much better when you feel that you’ve truly earned them. 

So go out and kick Monday’s ass! 

Extracts from my Teenage Diary 

Hello darlings!

Lately, I was cleaning out our attic space (which was so messy I’m surprised I didn’t come across a family of raccoons living in there) and I found a couple of diaries I had kept during my teenage years. My initial reaction was delight; I had completely forgotten about them. After reading only a few pages of the diaries, however, my delight was quickly replaced by a sense of MORTIFICATION. Sweet Simon Cowell on a bike, they are cringe-inducing. 

Because I love you all and want to make you cringe as much as I did, I am going to share with you some excepts from some of the worst entries I found. Welp.

13/3/00

Dear diary, 

It’s hard to believe I’ll be finishing primary school soon! I’m kinda sad about it and scared to start secondary school. I know K**** will be going to the convent with me so I don’t feel too bad. I’ll miss my other friends so much though. It will be weird going to an all-girls school. And I have to wear a UNIFORM. It looks like a kilt, I HATE IT. 

I was fighting with my sister yesterday because she said I took her purple top but I actually didn’t because I don’t even like it. Anyway, where would I wear it? I was on the roof of the school with the lads which I’m not supposed to do but I did it once. J**** had to help me up because I can’t climb like the rest of them. Sometimes I don’t want to do those things because they get us in trouble but they are fun. I can’t wait for the summer. I got new sandals and a top from Extrovert. I cut my hair too but it’s a little short. I look like a fella. Mam tried to convince me that it’s all the rage at the moment but I can barely tie it up and it’s all bushy. I got butterfly clips for it and they are soooo pretty. 

Me, J***** and F******** went for a walk the other day but we got lazy so had a big water fight instead. 


Okay, so that entry was petty innocuous but it sets the tone for my ridiculous lack of concentration and coherency. I was only twelve here, bless my cotton socks. I’ll skip forward a bit.

4/12/01 

Aargh! Christmas exams soon. I feel fine about English and history and maybe Irish but the rest are so hard. My business teacher is so scary. I feel like I can’t even look at her and she gets angry. She randomly put on a Shakira song the other day and we thought it was a trick so we all just sat there, staring at each other. I like science but A**** makes me laugh all the time and I can’t concentrate. I’m not even going to talk to you about maths. Some of our teachers are already talking about the junior cert and I’m just not listening. It’s a year and a half away for f**k’s sake. Take a chill pill.

My family are driving me crazy. My sister has a boyfriend…think I told you about him?? My brother is away and my parents are just sooooo annoying right now. If I didn’t have the pets, I would probs run away and be a hippie. 

P****** asked me out again. I don’t really like him but all my friends think I should say yeah to him. I don’t know….

Oh, R**** came over and stayed the night the other day! We just messed around the village with the lads. R**** got freaked out by the peacock. 

Me, F******** and J***** have just been playing PlayStation all the time because the weather is so sh**. I wish I had more news, but things are so boring right now. I’ve just been listening to BSB and I put up some new posters. 


Okay, so this one is a little more action packed. You can see my love for English and history goes back a long way. I didn’t know then that I would be teaching it myself one day. That business teacher was indeed a tyrant and I’m still frightened of her. Maths was never my strong suit. Ooh, I swore. So much sass here! 

That P guy was my first boyfriend. And BSB is…you guessed it…Backstreet Boys. BSB TILL I DIE. Oh, and I never did become a hippie. 

Also, bonus cringe points for the out-of-nowhere peacock reference. 

11/10/03 

Dear diary, 

I know it has been forever. Things have just been so crazy, I don’t even know where to start. So I did the Junior Cert and weirdly, I got on really well. I got 4 As and 6 Bs…I even got a B in maths…pass maths, but maths…and an A in music…like wtf?! And English, history and CSPE (but everyone gets an A in that so…) Fifth Year is actually great so far. I feel a lot more mature even though I still play games with my friends haha. 

The biggest thing that has happened is that I met someone and….well I’m in love. I know, I know, it’s sudden. But I love him. His name is J and we talk all the time. I met him in January but we didn’t start going out until May. And I love him. It was really sudden, but I just know. He is so lovely and he treats me so well. We have so much in common. The only problem is that he lives in Dublin and I don’t see him much. We talk every single day on the phone and we text all day long. He’s like my best friend. 

I haven’t seen F******** in ages and I miss her! R***** comes up to me every evening after school for a chat. I love my friends. I’m lucky to have them and J… I’m even getting on a little better with the family. 

HOW COULD I HAVE FORGOTTEN?! My sister is PREGNANT! I’m so excited to be an auntie. I don’t feel old enough to be one but I’m sure it just involves having sweets on you all the time, right? Haha. 


This is my first entry where I reference J, my ex boyfriend! Did I mention I love him enough?! My sister now has three wonderful kids and her daughter was born that December and is now….almost 14 OMG. Being an aunt definitely imvolves more than carrying sweets around with me, but it definitely helps! 

So I was no Anne Frank. What about you? Did you keep a diary in your youth or do you keep one now? Confess in the comments! 

Own Your Introversion 

“Don’t underestimate me because I’m quiet. I know more than I say, think more than I speak and observe more than you know.” ~ Michaela Chung

I’ve always know that I’m an introvert. So when I took the Myers-Briggs questionnaire as part of a work-related exercise, it came as no surprise to me that I am classed as an INFJ personality-type. This table should explain that term to anyone unfamiliar with it: 

Source: Wikipedia

I didn’t really think about it until lately, when a former college classmate had taken the questionnaire and asked me about my results. I told him that I was an INFJ and that I fully accepted this description of me. He seemed surprised, as an extrovert himself, that I considered myself introverted. I suppose, on the surface, I appear very comfortable in company and I am able to make idle small-talk with the best of them (topics of choice: the weather, whatever Trump has done this week, the rising cost of saffron), but I know myself that I am much more comfortable either by myself or with a small group of people whom I know well. It was what he said next that really sums up the misconception about introverts: 

It’s just… aren’t introverts…like…a little weird and awkward? 

Full disclosure: Yes, I can be a little weird and awkward. And there’s nothing wrong with that (okay, so I probably should be supervised using adult scissors and I definitely shouldn’t be left alone with your boss, but that’s just common sense). But come on, I’m not some bumbling Hugh Grant archetype who can’t string a coherent sentence together without peeing myself.

Although I can relate to this so much. Dammit Hugh.


Introverts aren’t socially inept idiots. While we may not embrace social gatherings with the same enthusiasm as our extroverted counterparts, it doesn’t mean we don’t like or even enjoy them from time to time. It also doesn’t mean that we’re incapable of conversing with others in a meaningful way. Introverts tend to listen to and really think about what you are saying. It is only when one is quiet that you can really listen. We are contemplative and reflective. That is not necessarily a sign of shyness and most definitely not a sign of weakness. 

I want to banish the misconception that introverts are somehow ineffectual loners who loathe human contact. You can be introverted and lead a fulfilling, successful life. You can work and socialise like any other person. You value your own company because it allows you time to think, to reflect, to create, to be.

Being alone doesn’t mean you’re lonely. Sometimes, I feel most lonely in a room full of people because a situation like that often prevents deep, meaningful communication. Conversations at social gatherings can be inanely superficial. 

I’ve grown to love my own company. I love the silence of it (well, I’m sometimes silent… there are those days I get my Celine Dion on…). I love listening to my inner voice in that silence… although she’s usually telling me that she wants fro yo and a Storage Wars marathon. 


So I’m choosing to own my introversion. I’m not ashamed of it, and you shouldn’t be either. In fact, without this aspect of  my personality, I don’t think I would be blogging. It’s allowed me to be a much more introspective person and that’s key to personal blogging really, isn’t it? That and cats…lots of cats. 

So tell me about your personality; are you an introvert? Or are you more extroverted? (nothing wrong with that, of course *awkwardly bumps you on the arm*) 

Come tell me in the comments! 

Yes

I long for the days that I was able to roll out of bed after a less than sober night and spring into immediate action; cooking my gals a greasy breakfast and cringing with them over our less-than-ladylike antics the previous night. Nowadays, I’m lucky if I can utter anything more than a mono syllable. Springing out of bed post- bender is still nothing but a dream *stares wistfully into the distance* in fact, rolling out of bed and landing on the rug is even a little ambitious. 

A wiser woman would know that there’s a lesson to be learned here somewhere right? And that lesson is…I JUST WON’T GO TO BED AT ALL. NO, that’s not it…oh right, I should stop getting unmercifully pissed and learn to drink responsibly. Which, to be fair, I am capable of. My problem is that nowadays I’m lucky if I go on two or three nights out in the whole year, so when I do…well, the four horsemen of the apocalypse actually follow me around, you know, just in case. 

So lesson one of my thirties?? NO MORE DOUBLES. JUST….NO JANE. BAD JANE. 

Do Something Silly

One of the things I’ve learned and accepted about myself since confronting my issues with anxiety is the fact that I over-think absolutely everything. I’m sure those of you reading this who have experienced the same issues will totally relate to what I’m saying. I constantly fear judgement, criticism and ridicule. As a result, I often find myself acting in a manner that really doesn’t feel natural. Sure, we all must act professional and mature in certain circumstances. Sometimes, however, being an adult means we neglect our inner child, or in my case, my inner goof. So I am urging you, dearest reader, to find that silly eejit who lives inside all of us. It’s liberating but above all, it’s fun. Here’s me playing around on Snapchat.

If anyone wants me, I’ll be hurling eggs at passing cars.*

*No I won’t because that’s a) dangerous and b) I’m actually making an omelette.

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