Thursday 19th March 2026, 19:30
I’m sitting in the living room with Forest on my lap, watching Luke Littler demolish Stephen Bunting in the Premier League. I was in the office today, but I got home at about 3 o’clock – if you ever catch me doing a full day in the office, you will know something has gone catastrophically wrong. I immediately went on a run – life feels so much better with a bit of sunshine, and I wanted to get outside and make the most of it. I then had beef stir fry with rice for tea, which was beautiful, followed by a snickers protein bar. It’s not a bad life, really.
I am on annual leave next week. I have been forced to take it, as our leave year ends in March and I’d lose it if I didn’t, but I don’t have any plans, so it will be interesting to see how I react to no plans or structure. Well, I am going for coffee with a friend tomorrow morning, and then dinner with a different friend in the evening, and then I’m in Nottingham for the weekend as part of a leadership training course I’m doing, and I have Badminton booked with Hayley on Monday evening, and I’m going for drinks with another friend on Thursday evening, but other than that I have no plans. Even when I have no plans, I still somehow seem to have plans – I’m not sure if it’s reassuring, because it means I actually matter to at least a handful of people, or annoying, because it means I can never actually have a blank canvas to organise my own time. I guess it’s more the former.
Anyway, the point is, I’ve decided to keep a diary for the next week or so. If it turns out to be funny, I’ll probably post it on my blog, which lets face it, it will be, and I will do. So, strap in.
Friday 20th March 2026, 07:20
Good morning! I’ve been lying in bed for the last hour or so, drifting in and out of sleep whilst half-listening to Radio 4. I was considering a bike ride this morning, but the weather looks rather miserable, so I think I’m just going to lounge around instead, maybe walk the dog, but nothing too strenuous. Life is much more fun when you switch your focus towards leisure and relaxation, and stop putting so much pressure on yourself to be productive all of the time.
I’ve just replied to a drunken email from Lewis, as it appears he had a few beers with Mr Morris down in London yesterday evening. I was invited too, but cancelled my attendance due to insufficient funding, which is a shame, but it sounds like they had a lot of fun without me anyway, which is nice. I’m quite enjoying communicating with my friends via email – I think it’s much more fun, and there’s something almost romantic about it, although Lewis is not hugely keen on the idea, so I appreciate his persistence. In his defence, his most recent conversation starter was a YouTube clip of men farting on the tee as they’re about to take a golf shot, so I guess there’s some sort of emotion in that.
I might go and have some Weetabix.
Friday 20th March 2026, 14:30
I almost feel a little bit ashamed of myself. I am currently sitting on the second floor of the Library of Birmingham, a building I never once thought to visit during the year I worked in the city – what a waste! It is beyond stunning, and I immediately feel at home. There is nothing but books as far as the eye can see, and there are so many people sitting around writing, reading, chatting, listening to music, and enjoying themselves. Jesus, I feel so happy, I don’t quite know what to do with myself – it is simply glorious! Life is so wonderful!
I saw a lot of couples on my walk to the library, and there are a lot of couples in the library too, which makes me feel a bit sad. There are also a lot of students sitting about, which makes me feel very old, and also therefore a bit sad. I’ve come to accept the inevitability of the aging process, and I am definitely much happier aged 27 than I was at 17, but I still can’t help but feel scared by the unavoidable fact that I will be 30 soon, and then 40, and then 50.. Single, aging, and reduced to writing a blog that cries out for attention – what has life come to!
I jest, of course, life has always been this way. I had a lovely coffee date with Lizzie this morning. It had been around 4 years since I last saw her, yet it somehow felt like everything and nothing had changed in that time. I strongly believe there are certain people in life that will never truly leave you, even if you drift apart or don’t talk very often, and perhaps Lizzie is one of them. I think, whether you like it or not, you will always have a special bond with those who knew you intimately during your formative years. As I get older, I find myself holding on to those who offer me a link back to my younger self tighter and tighter, so it was very nice to see her again, and I hope we can rekindle our friendship.
Friday 20th March 2026, 18:10
I’m on the train home from Birmingham, comforted slightly by the familiar feeling of melancholy that is enveloping me as I type. I spent a lovely few hours with my friend Lewis (a different one to the one mentioned above, just for clarity), catching up over boa buns and pizza at an extremely gentrified new food hall that recently opened in the Jewellery Quarter, yet I couldn’t help but feel jealous of him. Partly because he has a boyfriend, which would obviously be nice, but mainly because he lives in a city, where people are and things happen. Recently, I find myself increasingly bored with my life – although I enjoy it, I just feel like there has to be more to it, so whenever I find myself in a city at the minute, I feel as though that is where I should be, in the middle of everything, with actual opportunities to meet people and do things. Who knows, perhaps I am just doomed to want whatever it is I don’t have, to feel restless forever, but once my debt is paid off, hopefully by the end of the year, and the doors of opportunity fly open for the first time in a decade, it will be interesting to see where I end up.
I wrote a short piece on beauty earlier in my notepad whilst I was stuck in traffic on my way to the train station. I wasn’t going to mention it, as I don’t think it was very good, but a beautiful young man has just got on the train and sat directly opposite me, forcing me to consider both his beauty and my aloneness, so now I am going to mention it, and share it, because I feel exposed and thus feel a need to hide nothing:
When I see a beautiful man, it makes me feel a twinge of sadness. There is so much beauty in the world that will always be just out of reach, and that’s sad, is it not? I mean, what do we truly live for, if not for beauty? Ah, what I’d give to just stop my car, get out, walk over to him, and ask him how it feels to be so beautiful.
Beauty, in its purest form, is all encompassing – it doesn’t allow you to consider anything else, it makes you say and do stupid things, and you become almost drunk on it. I think it’s his cheekbones that did it, although it could just as easily have been his eyes, his smile, even his hair or his outfit. Sure, we say it is the beauty on the inside that matters, but does it really? Nothing can move one quite like a beautiful person can.
If I spend the rest of my life alone, then that will be OK, since at least I have seen plenty of beautiful men throughout my life, and I have even been lucky enough to spend the night with some of them, which is in itself a life-affirming, transformational experience. Spending the night with a beautiful man simultaneously makes you feel on top of the world, because you can’t quite believe how lucky you are, but also bereft and distraught, for you can never be sure you’ll ever get the opportunity again to be in such intimate proximity to beauty.
All of the pain and torture, the relentless battering life inflicts upon you, it is all worth it in the end, if just for the chance that you might one day get to spend another night with beauty. All this, just because I saw a beautiful man walk down the street whilst I was stuck in traffic.
Saturday 21st March 2026, 21:40
I’m currently lying in bed in Room 223 of the DoubleTree Hilton in Nottingham, having arrived here at 9am. I was in a training course all day on public speaking, which is part of a ‘Leadership School’ programme I’m taking part in. We wrapped at 5pm, so I spent an hour in the fitness suite, before heading down to dinner with my colleagues, which wasn’t particularly fun. I managed two hours of small talk and made everyone laugh several times, so I guess it was a successful evening, even if I can’t remember a single fucking thing any of them said – lovely people, but not interesting to me, and therefore instantly forgettable. I say this with no malice, it’s just a fact.
I plan to wake up at 6am tomorrow morning and spend another hour in the fitness suite. I’ll follow this with a shower, then head down for breakfast, sticking to just bacon & eggs instead of a full english, as at least they’re both relatively healthy. I’m then going to head back to the room to read the Financial Times – they were giving out free copies in reception, which is possibly the best thing that has ever happened to me. Ok, that is maybe an exaggeration, but there is something about owning a physical copy of a weekend broadsheet newspaper (either the FT or the Sunday Times – I’d rather die than read the Sunday Telegraph) that makes me incredibly happy.
I spent a good few minutes staring at myself in my underwear in the mirror earlier. I can tell that I’m gaining muscle in my upper body, especially my shoulders, and I think my legs are looking a bit firmer too, so that makes me feel really good, but my belly fat is still refusing to shrink, and if anything, has possibly grown a little bit over the past few months. I’m trying really hard not to beat myself up about it, and also avoid jumping to extremes, such as trying to starve myself (again) or doing 2-3 hours of cardio every day (again – I did actually do this when I was like 13), but it is becoming quite disheartening. I want to try and avoid returning to counting calories if I can, as I definitely became unhealthily fixated on it in the past, but I do need to find a way to start shifting the belly fat, since other than that, I’m actually pretty happy with how I look at the minute.
I also feel quite unsatisfied with my life more generally at the minute. I’m not sure if it is just me being ungrateful, but I feel like there has to be more to it. I keep driving myself fucking mad thinking about it, but realistically there is not much more I can do whilst I still have this debt hanging over me, so it is very stupid of me. Also, it’s probably largely because I am comparing my life to others, which I know I shouldn’t do, but it’s so hard not to! Comparison, as the cliché goes, is the thief of joy, and it really is true, but we (I) persist in doing it anyway.
Sunday 22nd March 2026, 20:45
For a multitude of reasons, I once again find it impossible this evening to choose a new book to begin reading. Firstly, it’s because I feel guilty that I already have four on the go (The Karamazov Brothers by Fyodor Dostoevsky, The History of Philosophy by A.C. Grayling, Queen James by Gareth Russell, A Job To Love by The School of Life), and I should therefore probably pick one of those up and read it, but for multiple inexplicable reasons, I don’t want to. Secondly, it’s because I don’t know which book, out of the ones I haven’t read yet, that I would enjoy the most, which feels obvious, because how could I possibly know that, yet it still somehow paralyses my decision making ability. Thirdly, it’s because I can’t be arsed, and my brain would much rather sit and watch YouTube Shorts, even though I know that would be much less satisfying and make me feel horrible. I’ve written extensively about the inertia that invades my mind whenever I try and make a sensible decision, so I won’t rehash it here, but do please note that it really does make life a complete fucking chore.
I got home from my leadership training course at around 2pm. The trainer was lovely and told me how much I had improved over the space of the weekend by embracing my authenticity, which was quite funny, since the final speech I gave was about Local Government Reorganisation, and my passion for the subject was entirely disingenuous. I think sometimes these people just hear what they want to hear, and say what they think you want to say, although I will cut her some slack, since I know I am rather good at making people believe I care, when in reality, I absolutely don’t. I like the idea of embracing my authenticity and being more myself, but the problem is, if I were to do that, I’d struggle to get out of bed in the morning, for I honestly don’t know if there is anything in the world that I genuinely care enough about to ever go on a fucking public speaking course – it is yet another example of my doing what I think I should do to be a normal human being (albeit an extremely intelligent one).
This morning, before the last session of the course started, I did indeed follow through on my intentions – I went to the fitness suite, had bacon & eggs for breakfast, and then read the paper in my room, although I read The Sunday Times on my iPad, since I realised I’d already read most of the stories in the FT Weekend on my iPad yesterday. This afternoon I have walked Forest, replied to a few emails (personal ones, of course), played a few games of Call of Duty with Samuel Morris, watched a few YouTube videos, played a few games of chess online, and generally just whittled the hours away. I saw a question earlier that asked “when was the last time you lost track of time”, and I honestly couldn’t remember – I spend the vast majority of my time wondering how I should fill my time. I wish I had a hobby that interested me so much I could entirely lose myself in it.
Oh fuck this, I’m going to go and force myself to start a new book. I might fuck the rest of them off tomorrow, or I might wake up with a renewed desire to devour them in one sitting, who knows – all I know is that living inside my own mind is like sailing on a ship that hasn’t escaped the storm since it first set sail.
Monday 23rd March 2026, 08:55
The possibilities of the day sprawl in front of me like some endless fucking nightmare. For someone who (supposedly) has such a vast array of hobbies & interests, I spend so much of my time trying to figure out how I can fill it. I have nothing that appeals to me innately, no activity that I rush to enjoy as soon as I have some free time. Why is that? Why do I suffer from such a dearth of passion? Surely there has to be something on this planet that can enthuse me, motivate me, make me feel alive? All I can think about right now is how nice it would be to have a cigarette, and then perhaps flee the country.
I’ve emailed a few friends recently who have yet to get back to me, which is disheartening. I think even if email isn’t your thing, which is entirely fair enough in the modern world, it wouldn’t hurt to drop me a text or even give me a call, just some sort of response or acknowledgement. Don’t get me wrong, I have several friends who have taken to emailing like ducks to water, and I am thoroughly enjoying my correspondence with them, but it still saddens me that some friends don’t respond. Perhaps those friendships were already dead, and this is my belatedly realising it. That seems to be the pattern of adulthood, or at least it is for me – you haemorrhage friends and then worry that you’re letting life pass you by.
I am watching passively, with a wry smile on my face, as Forest crawls under the covers of the bed I made just a few minutes ago, messing it all up again. If there is any life I should model my own on, perhaps it is Forest’s – he woke up this morning at 7am, was fed his breakfast and taken on a walk, and then promptly returned to bed. Simplicity is the key, it seems.
Tuesday 24th March 2026, 11:55
I find myself in the clubhouse at Branston Golf & Country Club. The waitress has just brought my double espresso over to me, and I’m reading through an email I received this morning from my good friend Dany. I’ve ordered katsu chicken loaded fries for my lunch, which I admit is a tad greedy, but I’m at the driving range at 6pm this evening with Mr East, and will therefore just be grabbing a quick snack for tea before I head out, rather than anything substantial, which I believe justifies my largesse at the club. Is it just me that has to justify decisions to myself like this, or is it a universal thing? I would be genuinely interested to know. I also just did a leg session in the gym, so I would argue that is more than enough justification anyway, since I literally struggled to walk down the stairs afterwards.
After my needless self-debasement yesterday morning, I actually had quite a nice day in the end. I fell asleep for a bit after I wrote that diary entry, which is becoming something of a habit, but I don’t mind, since I still feel full of energy and get things done. I had lunch when I woke up, then nipped to Waitrose to do a quick food shop. I then spent most of the afternoon reading, before cooking dinner (an absolutely beautiful creamy tomato pasta, if I do say so myself, made slightly spicy and cooked with chicken for the gains). Hayley and I played Badminton at the Leisure Centre in the evening, after which I had a virtual call with my friend Lauren – she lives in London, so I only get to see her once or twice a year, so it’s always nice to have a teams call where I can see her lovely face.
I was actually supposed to be at the gym first thing this morning, as I’ve been waking up at 6am every day for the past couple of weeks, even on days off work, which is working wonders for my energy levels, but I was a bit naughty today – I turned Radio 4 on and then got back in bed for a few hours. I was in that glorious state where you sort of doze in and out of sleep, which meant it felt like I dreamt the news this morning – either Ben Stokes has done something naughty again, or I had a very vivid dream that he drinks too much beer. Of course, both of these scenarios are entirely plausible.
I’ve just finished my lunch, and it was what the kids would call “mid”. I think I’m going to pop into Burton now and have a wander around. I could do with some new t-shirts – I haven’t bought any new ones since I lost weight, so everything I wear is currently three sizes too big, which means I still look fat, even though I am now a stunning, sexy, gorgeous, skinny legend/queen. I will also inevitably nip into Waterstones, since it’s almost a physical impossibility to walk past without going in, and I’ll probably venture into a few of the charity shops too, although the books in there are always Danielle Steel/Colleen Hoover type romance/fantasy shite. I read Verity by Colleen Hoover a while back, and it is possibly the worst book I’ve ever read.
I’ve just finished reading Dany’s email. Every time I hear from him, I am reminded what a special human being he is. I am very lucky to count him as a friend of mine. Right, off to Burton I go.
Wednesday 25th March 2026, 10:45
Life is just so much better when you’re thin. I was walking past some shop windows on my way to Caffè Nero, caught my own reflection, and I thought, wow, you look stunning. It is a truly beautiful day to be alive.
I’m sitting in the window of Caffè Nero for the first time, which is wonderful, as it allows me to indulge in a spot of people watching – one of my favourite pastimes, and something I inherited from my darling Mother. The window seat is never usually free, so I guess it’s my lucky day, although not that lucky – I tried to use my Vitality voucher to get my coffee for free, as I usually do, but the Caffè Nero app doesn’t work properly on my new phone, so I had to pay £4.80 for it! It was like taking a blow to the gut from Mohamed Ali in his prime, but what can you do? I’ll tell you what – you can write a complaint to Caffè Nero, which is exactly what I’ll do once I’ve finished writing this.
It’s quite rainy outside, and quite chilly too, so it’s a bit of a miserable day, but as you can probably tell, I’m not letting that bring my mood down. I woke up at 6am and read The Times in bed, before heading to the gym (I did a push workout today, so my arms hurt). I failed to get any t-shirts from Burton yesterday, so I’m in Derby today to try again, although I’m not holding out much hope. I did manage to spend £40 on books yesterday, though, even if I failed on the t-shirt front, so I’ll try to avoid repeating that again today.
I’m currently listening to The Romantic by Bruno Mars – I’ve never been an avid fan of his, but I must admit, his new album is something of a vibe. It’s actually sort of romantic (if you’ll pardon the pun) sitting in the window of the cafe as the rain pours outside. Two policemen just walked past, grimacing as they get soaked. Ha ha ha, sorry about that piggies. I’m joking, I have full respect for our brave officers of the law. Sometimes.
I was absolutely shite at the driving range with Adam last night, which doesn’t bode well for my first proper round of the year, which is scheduled for tomorrow afternoon with Mr Samuel Morris. Nonetheless, it was nice to see him, even though we didn’t actually talk about anything. How is it that men can spend several hours together, and seem to talk, but not actually talk about anything? Whereas when I went for a coffee with Lizzie the other day, we also spent a few hours together, yet seemed to cover an innumerable amount of topics? I had a very nice time with both of my friends, so I’m not complaining, but I just find it amusing how different friendships are across different genders.
I think I am also going to buy a digital camera today. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the camera quality on my new phone isn’t the best, so I could do with something that can actually take half decent photos whilst I am out and about. It’s also just a bit of a vibe to carry a digital camera around, isn’t it? I’ll finally feel like one of those cool YouTubers that are “decentralising” their smartphones.
I’ve just submitted my complaint to Caffè Nero. I fucking hate AI, I think it’s going to destroy the planet and any meaning we have in our lives, but by god, it’s good for writing complaints. Even so, Sam Altman can still fuck himself (I use Gemini now, not that Alphabet are a better company morally, but I just cannot stand Altman).
Right, I’m going to reply to a few emails and then head off to go shopping. Speak soon.
Thursday 26th March 2026, 09:10
What a gloriously sunny day! I think this is my favourite kind of weather, when the sun is blessing you with its rays, providing that invaluable little boost of happiness, but it’s still reasonably fresh and mild, just about the right temperature to be comfortable in a light jumper. In fact, I would go as far as to say that spring might be replacing winter as my favourite season of the year.
I’m sitting at the table by the window in Been Coffee, with a glorious view of the A38 Services at Willington. It’s not the most attractive view I’ve ever seen, but it’s good for a spot of people watching. A two-door Land Rover Defender has just pulled into the car park, a car which is, frankly, an abomination. I wasn’t a huge fan of the new model Defender when it first came out, but I must admit the four-door version has grown on me (the two-door is disgusting). I think I just like a big car – Elia always likes to remind me that I’m probably compensating for something, which is probably true. A bald man in a shit gilet just got out of the two-door Defender, as if to prove my point.
I Just Might by Bruno Mars is such a tune. I don’t think I’ve ever underlined something for emphasis before. Does it work?
I’ve decided not to do any exercise this morning, as I want to preserve all of my energy for golf later on. A round of golf can sometimes take over four hours, and I don’t think common people appreciate how exhausting it can be. Well, that’s the nominal excuse – in reality, most of my energy will be depleted trying not to rise to the unfiltered sewage that flows directly from the mouth of Sam Morris.
I managed to get some t-shirts yesterday! £2.50 each from Primark for some plain black ones, so I bought ten. As I’ve said many times before, simplicity is key! I couldn’t find a decent, reasonably priced digital camera anywhere though, so I ended up ordering a CampSnap, which is described as a “retro style camera for that 90s nostalgia”. It’s basically a digital camera, but it has no screen, meaning you can’t see the pictures you take, giving you that disposable camera feel, which sounds like just my vibe. It’s also cheap (£52!), and I’m looking forward to trying it out.
I didn’t do a huge amount yesterday once I got back from Derby. Hayley, Donna and I popped over to Denstone Hall Farm Shop & Cafe for a cup of tea and a quick browse. I almost bought a painting for £170, as one is wont to do, but I managed to refrain, and am therefore very proud of myself. I then quickly cooked a curry that I didn’t have time to eat before a catch up with fellow trustees from Derbyshire Mind, so I ate the curry afterwards, followed by an hour or so of mindlessly murdering people on Call of Duty with Samuel, and then I read an article on AI in The New Yorker before retiring to bed. A pretty standard night really.
Right, I’m going to go and do something else for a bit. Chow.
Friday 27th March 2026, 21:45
I went out with Carl last night. We started the evening with some pre-drinks, where I saw off a 35cl of gin, and then went to Spoons in Derby, where I saw off a bottle of white wine. That, coupled with the fact I only had a bowl of cereal and a protein shake for my tea, meant that by the time we left spoons I was so spandangled that we had to skip the clubbing part and Carl had to take me home. I have therefore been in bed for most of the day today, feeling extremely sorry for myself. Well, I did pop out for a spot of lunch with Kiera at The Farmhouse in Mackworth, and I did pop over to Elia’s for dinner and a catch up, but yes, other than that, bed.
I will update you properly tomorrow, as my head still hurts. I am really starting to feel old.
Sunday 29th March 2026, 09:45
Good morning! I just about feel normal again now. Friday was very rough, and yesterday wasn’t much better, as it’s the following day that seems to get me the most now, almost what one could call an “emotional hangover”, or, perhaps more commonly, beer fear (even though I didn’t drink beer, but you get the point).
Allow me to catch you up. I actually can’t remember what I did on Thursday, which is never a good sign. Ah yes! That’s right, I played a round of golf with my old chum Sam Morris, beating him quite handily by 7&6. It was a gorgeous afternoon, and it felt so good to be back out on the course. They’ve cut an awful lot of trees down over the winter, which makes it a bit easier to play, but the course has therefore lost some of its beauty, and looks a lot more plain. It’s also a lot more difficult to sneak off into the trees for a wee mid-round, which is less than ideal when you drink as much water as I do.
Thursday night, as described above, was a bit of a disaster. The problem was that when we first got into town, Carl was far too drunk, so I ordered him some cheesy chips in Spoons and listened to him ramble about all sorts of nonsense whilst I tried to sober him up. However, by the time we’d managed to sober him up, I had seen off three large glasses of white wine and was rather worse for wear myself. I would still say that, on the whole, it was actually a pretty fun night, but I might need to bear in mind that I can’t quite handle as much alcohol as I could when I was the size of a three-bed semi-detached house.
I woke up on Friday morning at 11am, downed a pint of water and two ibuprofen to try to placate my pounding headache, and then immediately proceeded to be sick. None of this was ideal when Kiera and I had a table booked at The Farmhouse for 12pm, but I soldiered on like a trooper regardless. I had a mixed grill for lunch, which was also probably a mistake, as it did not sit well at all, but nonetheless, it was lovely to catch up with Kiera, even if I did spend most of the meal moaning that I thought I was going to be sick. I love spending time with Kiera, her joy is infectious and it’s difficult to feel anything other than wonderful when you’re in her company.
I went straight back to bed when I got home from lunch for a cheeky siesta, so by the time I arrived at Elia’s for dinner at 6pm I was feeling OK, and the chicken tenders I got from Aldi helped me out a bit too. Elia and I watched an episode of Richard Osman’s House of Games and spent a few hours putting the world to rights, which seems to be becoming something of a routine for our nights together at hers.
Yesterday I managed to get up at 6am as normal, which I was quite proud of, and headed to the gym for an “upper body” session with Samuel. I had requested that we do pull, since I had already done push on Wednesday, but he insisted that we do a “whole upper body workout”, and implored me to “stop being a pussy”. Despite this, every single exercise we did was a pull exercise, so I can only conclude, once again, that his sole purpose on this planet is to piss me off.
I read The Times when I got back home, before Hayley and I popped over to see my Granddad for a spot of lunch, which was nice. We then nipped to Starbucks for a coffee, during which we had quite an interesting discussion on the current state of social media, artificial intelligence and the like. Well, I say an interesting discussion, that’s mainly because my Mum just sat and nodded at me whilst I ranted to her for about half an hour, but in fairness that is generally how most of our conversations go, and she does a great job at keeping me happy. Perhaps I should start calling her the autism whisperer.
I spent the rest of the day lolling about, trying to avoid falling into a hangover-induced state of melancholy. I read a few chapters of a book, watched some YouTube videos, took Forest on a walk, watched some golf, and so on. I’m actually quite pleased with myself, since a few years ago I would have probably just spent 7 hours in bed scrolling TikTok, so at least I’m indulging healthier behaviours now, even if I am still failing to control my drinking, although even then, what was once a weekly event is now perhaps monthly at the most. It’s almost as if I’m getting older.. Oh, and I also made an absolutely stunning chicken carbonara for dinner, which went down a treat with my lesbian parents.
I was up at 05:30 this morning to watch the Japanese Grand Prix, which saw Kimi Twinkonelli take the second victory of his career, and his second in a row. The race wasn’t as exciting as the recent Chinese Grand Prix, but it was still a fun watch. I then proceeded to fall back to sleep on the sofa for an hour, before being woken up by a phone call from Sam, who proceeded to accuse me of having just woken up, which I of course vehemently denied. If I am up at 05:30, then Sam was up at 04:30, so I refuse to let him get one up on me, even if I have to lie about it.
I’m going to go and have a coffee and read The Sunday Times now. I’m going to paint a pot with Elia this afternoon, then I’m out for Sunday dinner with the family, so I’m looking forward to a nice peaceful day. TTFN.
Sunday 29th March 2026, 20:50
I had SUCH a nice time at paint a pot! I picked a large coffee mug and Elia picked some classy fruit bowl thing. I started off really nicely with a picturesque painting of Forest, before also trying (and failing) to add a sunset type vibe on the inside of the cup. I then proceeded to add a book, a glass of wine, and a cigarette, as symbols of the most important things in my life. Elia did hers pink and then painted some sunshine, which is far too pleasant for her really. It would have been better suited if she had just painted the devil.
I then had lunch with my family at the King’s Highway. It was a decent carvery, but both the staff and the clientele were awfully common, so I won’t be rushing back there. I’ve then proceeded to spend the rest of the evening alternating between reading a book and scrolling mindlessly on my iPad.
I have learnt several things this week. I have already learnt them before, and I should know them to be true by now, but my silly brain just refuses to absorb the lessons. The first is that I have a wonderful selection of friends that I really enjoy spending time with. The second is that I spend far too much time in my own head, thinking about what I should be doing, rather than just doing things. The third is that my life is actually pretty fucking fantastic, and I’d enjoy it a lot more if I just get out of my own way.
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