I have no idea if I’ve learnt 11 things. This is a very specific number of learnings but it’s what I typed, so let’s go…
This morning I weed on a stick and it turned pink. To bring you up to speed (god forbid you should miss something on this riveting journey of mine) it’s day 4 of the Fast 800 diet, which I’ve decided to follow for 6.5 weeks over Lent.
It’s the night before I go for my metaphorical wander through the desert for 40 days and 40 nights.
Lent is a test of willpower. Every year, like many people around the world, I renounce things I like for 6 weeks – not because I’m a Catholic (although this is what the official papers say I am) but because I feel like if I don’t follow Lent, something bad will happen.
Japan has just announced that it’s leaving the International Whaling Commission to resume commercial hunting in July 2019.
Remarkable, just how much you can manage to not achieve if you really put your mind to it. For example, in the last 12 months (8,760 hours) I have managed to achieve practically nothing of any note whatsoever.
Mindfulness definitely sounds like a load of bollocks. It’s the sort of word that sounds like it was made up by an American women’s magazine columnist in an article about how she went to find herself at a yoga retreat up a mountain in Goa. Surprisingly, this is not the case. The word mindfulness wasContinue reading “Mindfulness: what is it and is it good, or is it a load of bollocks?”
The below is a very, very short story I named ‘Until Five’. I kind of like it in a bleak sort of way and I doubt I’ll ever do anything with it, so that’s why I’m posting it here. Until Five One of my legs feels fuzzy against the other, like a kiwi. I can’tContinue reading “Until Five [fiction]”
Each and every year, on the final day before my birthday, my internal monologue postpones business as usual and gets stuck in an infuriating loop of: ‘this is the last time I’m going to [insert activity] as an [insert age] year-old’. Today is my last day of being 27 and I just got back from theContinue reading “Goodbye twenty-seven, I will never see you again”
To the disappointment of every tabloid journalist in the UK, the late May bank holiday was not a ‘total washout’ as predicted. These are from today’s walk around Lullington Heath 🙂