It’s that awkward moment when you’re closer to 30 than you are to 20 and you still haven’t figured your shit out and by your shit, I mean, your life, and by your life, I mean the things that adulthood is supposed to come with; cleared debt, a fridge full of earthly delights (Nutella, four types of cheeses, artisan ice cream – food is very grown up) and a solid investment plan and pension scheme.

What is happening, in this moment, however, is that you realize you really do need to finish your debt before you turn 30, for fuck’s sake, and the only thing you enjoy more than sleeping is a nap; that type of nap that completely blacks out your brain, as if you’re dead; so dead, that you wake up thinking that you must have time-traveled to your early 20s and been given a chance to start all over again.

Actually on second thought don’t take me back to my early 20s. (My god, I have early 20s.)

I am not completely sure what I am supposed to be doing. But I have been doing whatever it is that I am currently doing for so long that I have forgotten what I actually like doing when I don’t have to pay rent.

I confess that my only solid investment plan at this point is lottery tickets and wise boyfriend choices.

Let’s see if I can figure it out tomorrow.