10 ways I still don’t have my life together
As a kid (and even a teen) you kinda assume people in their twenties have their lives together. But as someone who still regularly gets charged child prices on the bus, I can assure you that’s not the case. From apps to spending habits, I’m pretty much exactly the same as I was ten years ago, just without someone to tell me off for scrolling Facebook at 2am. So here’s 10 ways I absolutely still don’t have my life together…
- I occasionally wear swimwear as underwear. This varies from grabbing them out of the clean washing pile (that hasn’t been put away yet but totally will, at some point) without realising to Sunday nights and convincing myself I’ll put a wash load on after one more episode of Parks & Rec before admitting defeat and heading to bed with the black bikini bottoms I’ll have to wear tomorrow already front of my mind.
- My skin care routine is essentially soap and face wipes. Everyone I tell cringes at this. The soap IS facial soap at least. And I do ‘technically’ have a skin care routine, though my girls constantly remind me that just having the products and not actually using them doesn’t count. I know I should look after my skin, but who really has time to cleanse twice every morning and night?
- I’m addicted to sleep. I know that from the very first time I hit snooze in the morning, I’m doomed to rushing out of the house at 8:30am with unbrushed hair and mismatched shoes. And every time I snuggle down for a power nap, adamant that after precisely 27 minutes I will wake up feeling refreshed, I wake up not sure what year it is, beyond confused that Trump is the actual president of the US and it isn’t just a nightmare.
- I buy too many clothes. Even though I know if I stopped spending money in Primark, I could save up for classic pieces that will last longer than two spins in the washing machine, I can’t resist just ‘nipping in for a mooch’. If I had a pound for every failed spending ban, I would be surrounded by designer bags.
- I can’t keep my tiny apartment tidy to save my life. Half due to the sheer amount of stuff I’ve accumulated through the years and half due to who I am as a person. For every curated, Pinterest perfect area of my home, there’s ten foot of assault course between it and the bedroom!
- I google ‘How to cook an egg’ far more regularly than any human has the right too. How many times have I laughed at my parents inability to use Facebook? And yet I cannot master the simple art of a poached egg. I’m waiting for the magical day I will wake up and be a great chef/not burn soup… Though I now have a semi-formed spice rack so #adulting.
- I still don’t know my limit when it comes to gin. Or if I’ve drunk enough gin, I conveniently forget that I can’t handle Tequila. Either way, it all probably ends with me crying into a share box of chicken nuggets at 2am. I also haven’t developed ‘adult tastebuds’ yet, when it comes to stuff like tonic (why do people ruin gin with it??) but I’m totally getting there with red wine and I love olives a.k.a I’m sophisticated AF.
- My wardrobe could easily be mistaken for a dressing-up box… Or an over-grown toddlers quirky clothing range. Not that that’s ever gonna change. I can’t wait to be the bonkers old lady covered in pompoms, glitter and quite possibly cats!
- I’m still playing Candy Crush. Yes, like a million years after it was never cool in the first place. I play it at night when I should be sleeping, which probs explains why I’m always yawning.
- There’s 18,000+ unread emails in my inbox. It’s a constant source of stress but I get SO MUCH junk. I try to flag all the important ones but you know there’s definitely some that have slipped through the net. I just need to set aside a few hours (or weeks) to go through and unsubscribe/block the junk and delete all the unnecessary ones. But there are just so many other useful things I could be doing with my evenings and weekends… like playing Candy Crush.
Tell me it’s not just me?