Pasta breakfast

Last night in my dreams I found myself back at an NA meeting—despite being years sober. Thanks, brain. Love the vote of confidence. Really feeling the support. So... what gives, subconscious? A warning? A criticism? A relapse prophecy? Honestly? It was probably one of the most normal dreams I’ve had in months! In fact, I’ll take that over the usual nightly horror show my subconscious insists on staging. I’m sure it means just as much (or as little) as those deranged nightmares. Best not to overthink it!!

It’s a gorgeous day today. Lately, I’ve been waking up naturally around 8:30am—on the dot. Every day. I know. It’s weird. I’ve never been a morning person, let alone a punctual one. Today I even outdid myself, waking up at 7:30am! Meaning that it’s not even noon and I’m already, dolled up, fed —and not just on a handful of prescription pills! I had an actual breakfast: wholegrain pasta, vegan pesto and peas! At 10:30am. Which is revolutionary for someone like myself, who very rarely eats in daylight hours!

I am fed up with making plans that fall through, so I’m taking myself on a date today haha. I think my parents actually feel bad for me, sending me £40, “for matcha”. Thanks! I love sympathy money. In fact, I love all types of money and am always open for deposits. I’ll even flutter my eyelashes! I digress…

This morning I slathered my legs in sparkly, golden, glitter studded body oil! …Am I going to get skin cancer baking this gloop into my skin? Perhaps!! But in the summer if my legs don’t shine artificially like a plastic barbie doll then really what’s the point in even living!!! It’s supposed to reach highs of 25 degrees today, which is so sexy for London(!!) This is honestly as good as it gets here. Any hotter and we complain, getting all hot and bothered as slice our wrists with supermarket fan blades! Because ordinarily in London, no one has a damn fan!! When those rare heatwaves come, you best run down to John Lewis or Sainsbury’s alike to buy whatever horribly overpriced, cheap, ugly asf desk fan you can get your manicured hands on! Or we end up doing crazy shit, like my ex, who ripped out a huge industrial size/ grade air con machine (bigger than me!) that sat precariously on the bedside table, with a funky tube thicker than my whole damn waist snaking out the window like a sort of… Well a snake!! It made almost as much noise as his motorbike, which he removed the muffler from, meaning it screamed bloody murder every time he left for work. Swear to god, I always knew when he was ten minutes away from home because you could hear the damn thing miles before you could see it haha! Who says romance is dead?

… Lol, but I do miss that skinny house in Brixton we shared sometimes. That was not only the last time I felt I had some real independence, but also the last time we actually had a proper heat wave. A real sticky one. The kind where your thighs get sopping wet just from sitting cross-legged. And I have a thigh gap. I seriously feel for all the girlies with thick thighs—that must make everything like, ten times worse. That level of heat puts me in an instant bad mood. Like, when you're so sweaty that your clothes, your underwear even, is damp (and not in a fun way!) it’s just too overstimulating ahahaha!

But today? Today is going to be a good day. I can feel it. And not just because I’ve titrated my uppers and downers to a perfect little harmony and eaten, so I don’t feel sick and ghostly. Honestly, you know what else has made a shocking difference? …A few posts ago, I mentioned my new flat loafers. Sensible, chic—and life-changing? I’d been suffering in silence for over a decade, assuming that walking was just inherently painful. I forgot that most people don’t live in heels. The best-case scenario with heels is that your feet just go numb. Which is… okay, until they go full TV static, which can be ticklish as well as spikey! Honestly, I could probably have a stroke and just assume it’s my feet spazzing out in eight inch pointed toe courts. That said, I’m not retiring sexy heels anytime soon. But these loafers? Perfect for the days when I’m not performing at 100% for the male gaze. Sometimes 90% is enough. Lol