I’m starting to wonder if it might have been a mistake to commit myself to writing and publishing a review of every book I read in 2026 – I’ve already read seven so far this year (not so humble brag), so my blog is quickly becoming little more than a repository of mundane and unimaginative commentary on books whose authors have far more talent than I do. I finished Moral Ambition by Rutger Bregman in three days this week – how is one possibly supposed to keep up with one’s own mindblowing reading prowess? Yet another issue to add to the self-reflection to-do list, which seems to grow as rapidly as the interest on my student loans (a nice current affairs joke for you there).
Despite my being signed off work, I’ve had an incredibly busy week. On Monday evening I attended a meeting of the Board of Trustees for Derbyshire Mind, with several pressing issues meaning we were there for almost three hours. Despite it being challenging at times, I really enjoy my work as a Trustee, and I find it extremely rewarding. On Tuesday morning I spent a few hours in Costa, writing my review of The Wisdom of Insecurity by Alan Watts and observing the population of Burton (they are universally awful), and on Tuesday evening I had my first ever sports massage on my legs, which I imagine to be akin to the practices employed by the CIA on prisoners in Guantanamo Bay.
On Wednesday morning I popped into Derby for a spot of retail therapy, which was as depressing as you would expect it to be. I would say around half of the shops in the city centre are now either boarded up or closing down, including my beloved former employer Paddy Power (I was genuinely sad about this), and it is absolutely full of awful looking people milling around and looking depressed. I had a quick browse in a few charity shops and Waterstones before beating a hasty retreat to the safety of suburbia. On Wednesday evening I went to the gym with my good friend Adam, followed by dinner at The Red Lion in Hollington, which has one of the most incredible menus I have ever seen – their pie menu lets you choose from 16 types of pie, 16 varieties of mashed potato, 16 side dishes and 16 different gravies! Couple that with the name of the pub and you have possibly the most Brexity experience you can find outside of Skegness, and I thoroughly enjoyed it (the company wasn’t bad either, just in case Adam reads this).
On Thursday afternoon I headed to Scarthin Books with my darling Mother, an independent bookshop around 45 minutes away in the charming little town of Cromford, not far from Matlock. It was heavenly – they have over 100,000 books, stacked floor to ceiling, with twelve rooms across three floors, as well as an adorable little cafe, where we stopped for a cup of tea and a slice of carrot cake. We were there for over two hours in the end, and I came away with eleven books, which must be a record even for me.
On Thursday evening I was out for dinner again, this time with my old chum Jack at the new restaurant, Isabel’s, that has just opened in Burton, known for its patron, local celebrity Nathan Dawe. I’m indifferent to Mr Dawe as a person, but I did comment to Jack that his restaurant has been designed in the image of what common people think luxury looks like, and to go along with it, the food was average at best. If you earn £17,000 a year and want to experience (tacky) luxury, then this is the place for you!
Yesterday I had a session with my personal trainer at 6.30am, which is a frankly inhumane time to have a PT session, especially considering the effort he makes me put in (I can actually feel my muscles expanding afterwards, and I know the body of Arnold Schwarzenegger is just around the corner). Between you and me, I was that exhausted afterwards that I went back to bed for a super quick (three hour) nap, because why not? I can quite literally do whatever I want, so fuck you. I then spent the day reading and writing, before spending the evening catching up with old friends and new flames via phone calls (I had a lovely catch up with my darling friend Lauren, and borderline phone sex with a charming young chap I’ve met on Hinge).
I ran three miles this morning, in the piss down rain and with a knee that feels like it’s about to disintegrate, before sitting down to write this. Sabrina Carpenter is playing in the background, and Lord Fozzington is playing with an incredibly annoying squeaky toy right next to my feet. My dear old friend Oliver will be arriving around lunchtime to stay for the night, which I’m thoroughly looking forward to, since it’s been almost eighteen months since we last had the opportunity to properly catch up – we went for dinner a few months ago, but how can you catch up properly with someone you haven’t seen in over a year in just a few hours over dinner? It is impossible, especially when you’re as interesting as I am and have so many thoughts and experiences to share. Before that, I need to nip round and see Sam, as I haven’t seen him this week so he rang me this morning to invite me round for a brew – I think he gets lonely if he doesn’t see me at least once a week, bless his little ginger cotton socks.
Right, I think you’re all caught up now, and this has been a wonderful excuse not to write my review of Moral Ambition (3 stars, starts well but descends into left-wing hogwash with a delightfully predictable speed). I hope you have a lovely weekend my darling – speak soon!
