Where life's contradictions get comfortable

I hate it when Arthur comes calling. I really do wish he would do one, just disappear already. Now I know what you think, but this really isn’t me being horrible. I just really wish he would f-off; my God, does he piss me off. He shows his face like he has every right to be here, and in case you are wondering, no, he does not. I don’t see the need or reason for that face to be looking back at me, and for some reason, they all love him. They must do because they knock about wi

I I had a thought this morning. There are so many things that I want to do. It makes me wonder if I will have time to do any of them. I have been thinking about starting a podcast. I have started to write. I am writing a blog - well, attempting to. I want to write a book. I have a few ideas for completely different storylines that no way can merge into one book, so I don’t actually know right now if that will ever come to fruition, as I can’t pin down one idea. I have thought

The other day my lad was talking to me about his mates starting university and said that sometimes, when people finish, bear in mind they haven’t started yet. That some go on sabbatical for a year or eighteen months. So it has got me thinking. Can I go on a sabbatical? Can I just check out of life for a bit? Sod off around the world, travelling in my van- can you have a sabbatical from your family? Is that even a thing? I looked up a sabbatical definition, and it said that it

Let’s be honest - midlife can feel like a bit of a cosmic joke sometimes. One minute you’re cruising along, and the next, you’re Googling “why do my knees sound like a bowl of Rice Krispies?” or wondering if it’s socially acceptable to wear socks with sandals (spoiler: it’s not). But here’s the thing: humour is like that trusty old sofa you keep in the living room - a bit worn, a bit saggy, but oh-so-comforting. It cushions the blows of midlife challenges and makes the whole

Something was always slightly wrong, but perhaps perfection is overrated anyway. We got up in the morning like any other. I came downstairs, Bo put the kettle on, and we sat at the table to drink our morning tea. Ran the water in the sink to wash the pots, I have this terrible habit of leaving them until the next morning; by the time we have finished dinner and I have done a million other things, I just can’t be bothered. So I don’t. I washed the pots, went upstairs to get dr

Working with family can be amazing, and for me it was great for a long time. I loved my job. It wasn’t something that I ever thought I would do, and what started out as a favour turned into more than just a job. It was my life. It was everything to me. Amidst a serene morning setting, a mug sits surrounded by notebooks, embodying the fusion of work and life with quiet determination.

Those weeks when even basic decisions feel like advanced project management. That’s it; I have decided that I am incapable of thinking for myself. Well, at least I don’t want to. Why do we always have decisions to make? I don’t want them anymore. Can’t someone just come in and make all the decisions for me? I am having an indecision day. What do I eat for dinner? I don’t know, anything. How about just putting a plate in front of me and telling me to eat it. This I could see w