Day 24: The leg hair has returned and my vocabulary is improving

I've taken to writing down words I like in the margins of whatever notebook is closest to hand. I just came across a small pile of them in a now-defunct diary. They were stacked like a turmite hotel and read like this: Febrile. Spurious. Nadir. Purposive. Torrid. I will try to use them in a… Continue reading Day 24: The leg hair has returned and my vocabulary is improving

Day 23: I should be ordering fifteen euro eggs and nursing a mimosa right now

I am hungover. Two freely-poured aperol spritzes, 1.5 cans of Guinness (the remaining 0.5 woke me up with its RINGING judgement from the lofty heights of my bedside locker this morning) and I am a pale and anxious mess. I went to bed fully-clothed, having been Facetiming a friend in Australia and, when my battery… Continue reading Day 23: I should be ordering fifteen euro eggs and nursing a mimosa right now

Day 22: Today is absolutely the last day of not getting dressed properly

I am either very, very tired or very, very energised. Those are my two states of being in quarantine. I either want to give hours to making intricate TikTok dance videos or else I'm lying down on my bedroom floor barely able to lift my arm to separate the tangle of the 3,000 piece jigsaw… Continue reading Day 22: Today is absolutely the last day of not getting dressed properly

Day 21: Things I Must Have Written But Can’t Remember and Won’t ReRead.

I am bubbling over with things I want to tell you - I keep writing them down on scraps of paper and in my phone notes. These diaries are transforming me into a poor parody of Jo March from Little Women - dashing through the house to reach some form of pressed parchment and record… Continue reading Day 21: Things I Must Have Written But Can’t Remember and Won’t ReRead.

Day 20: Things I’ve cried at in the past 24 hours

Oh, hi there. Nothing to see here, just a woman now sort-of in her late twenties but still very much under the impression her age, looks, and penchant for terrible hair cuts paused at 22, crying into a supermarket trolley, improvised buddha bowl, chocolate pavlova. Whatever happens to be close-to-hand and weirdly inappropriate. Thankfully, salt… Continue reading Day 20: Things I’ve cried at in the past 24 hours

Day 19: Ok, I’m turning this into a food blog now (because there’s not enough of those)

Ok, it is 21:09. I have 21 minutes to write the absolute bejaysus (do we think this is a plausible spelling) out of this entry before I positively PLUMMET back into Modern Love and the chocolate pavlova awaiting assembly downstairs. (Note to the long-time readers: I know you're thinking that I'm breaking my strict, vehemently-principled… Continue reading Day 19: Ok, I’m turning this into a food blog now (because there’s not enough of those)

Day 18: She sleeps alone.

Pros of lockdown: No longer having that feeling, as you fall asleep celibate and alone, that every other twenty-something is out there having passionate sex with all and sundry. Cons of lockdown: Falling asleep, celibate and alone. Pros of lockdown: Sisters being legally prevented from seeing their boyfriends and love interests, making them seem every… Continue reading Day 18: She sleeps alone.