Fleabag

Do you know how many versions of myself there are online? I have been a food writer, travel blogger, poet, artist, mental health advocate. A couple of posts on each topic, and I apparently considered myself done.

But who is it that you want to be, people ask?

Where do you see you see yourself in five years? Oh bloody bollocks, maybe just alive actually.

Nearly 30 - no money, no flat of my own, not even a dog. The saving grace being that I do own a couple of cacti.

Card declined in Boots the other day, must save that sheet mask for next month then. Do I just face mask away my pain? I mean, pain is all relative, but I don't deem myself worthy to be feeling so lost.

What are your positive and negative attributes? Oh, well, I am creative, empathetic and caring, hardworking when I choose to be too, and my negatives - my procrastination is deserving of a Hamlet monologue, without the vengeance of my father's death. My father is very much alive, and in his own reverie that we like to call bollocks to Brexit. Maybe I have a fascination with bollocks, balls, maybe that explains my lack of anything. Nono, people say that I will be very successful, that maybe I should persue an acting career, that they should in fact create a job role just for me.

But here I am, mid week, still wearing my pyjamas at 2pm, house sitting my sister's flat, and looking after her cat who potentially needs more therapy than me.