Both literally and metaphorically, I am back in the driver’s seat.
Literally, because I’m now insured on my Mum’s little Clio and am enjoying zooming (under the speed limit at all times, obvs) around St Albans whenever I get the chance – it is definitely 100% necessary to ‘just pick up a few bits’ from Morrisons every single day – and metaphorically, because I’ve reentered the real world and am in the process of getting my life back on track.
What does this look like? Good question. It doesn’t look like a huge amount at the moment, but I’m taking things slooowly (verging on snail’s pace), because I’d rather not go backwards, thank you very much.
Most importantly, I need monies. And I need something to DO all day. So I need to get a job. Turns out an English degree from a good uni gives you absolutely no advantage whatsoever when it comes to getting a job in a shop. But anyway, I have at least had one interview for an editorial job I REALLY want, and I also have an internship lined up for next month, which is very exciting. I am officially starting ‘real life’.
I’m also trying to get my social life back up and running again, because for a while it consisted of hanging out with my best friend (and cat) Millie and scrolling through Instagram, jealous because everyone was doing fun stuff. To be honest, my evening routine is still centred around whatever excellent TV show is on from 8-9pm and 9-10pm. Then it’s bedtime. But I’m definitely improving, as I have recently been known to frequent the local pubs until the early hours of approximately 10.30pm. Here I am in my Stranger Things jacket (it was £30!!!!!) in a swinging chair with a huge glass of gin. Perfecto.
I actually don’t even care if most of my evenings involve chilling in front of the TV with my parents and my cat. My mum and I have a brilliant weekend routine, whereby 6 o’clock is gin o’clock. Then we play Bananagrams before dinner, and if I’m honest, it’s fab. Even when I lose. The other day I took great comfort from my friend telling me that her evenings are very similar, so I’ve decided that it’s just a (rather comforting) symptom of being 23 and still living at home.
Something else I do with my Mum at the moment is Parkrun. It might only be 5km, but it never fails to take me right back to those days of Cross-Country running. I’m trying my very best not to care about my time or position, and there’s something extra-satisfying about my big bowl of peanut buttery chocolate porridge on a Saturday morning, after I’ve plodded round the course and returned home red-faced and ready for a lie-down.
I am also now taking full advantage of being able to read anything that takes my fancy, and am looking forward to blogging about my favourite finds. Although please bear with me: I’ve spent 3 years analysing books but I literally have no idea how to write about them in a ‘normal’ way.
If anyone’s still reading this little life update, thank you xoxo, it’s nice to know that people other than my parents are interested in what I have to say. Over and out.