While reading a book of Maria Semple’s (who is fast becoming my favourite author. Ever.) she brought up the phenomenon of the Helpless Traveller. I love this. Because it’s me all over. The concept of the Helpless Traveller is when you are travelling with someone who is confident, organised and decisive, they are competent, while you, flounder at every turn. Helpless and complaining of sore feet, having no input to decision making and being as melodramatic as possible. “Just feed me, I’m starving and my stomach is starting to absorb my other organs from hunger.”
While your boyfriend sits there pissing himself laughing knowing full well your hatred of them.
What a year. Where did it go? I’m wracking my brain on what happened this year but I can’t remember what I did in March or May or June. It all becomes a blur when you’re old and were previously drinking most days of the week.
We said we’d still eat Whole 30 compliant during the week. We said we’d not touch carbs. WE LIED. I’ve eaten so many goddamn Christmas mince pies that I’ve lost count. I’ve scoffed cheese/chocolate/shortbread. EVERYTHING.