Hazel got a job then dyed her hair.

Hazel got a job then dyed her hair.

On my way home from work, bumbling along the Northern Line, I found myself staring at the girl opposite me and I just started thinking about how shit her necklace is.

It’s was remarkably crap- a little collection of coloured crayons, stuck together on a chain. It was at this point that I remember how I once proudly sported a necklace from Topshop that was meant to look like a string of bunting. I received so many compliments on it. Even now, you’re a moron Crothers, even now you wear spotty tights and odd socks to work because you think it’s kooky. That’s the second thing I noticed, after the shit necklace, my own awful fashion choices today. I then started thinking about how many hungry children there are in the world and I suddenly felt guilty about being a shallow goof. But don’t worry folks, I made a proper twat out of myself to make up for it- whilst I was having dark thoughts about the crayon necklace, I panicked and thought I’d arrived at my stop, so I jumped up dropped all my stuff, then sat back down again, realising I was only at Archway. I looked like a right tool. My reason for being on the tube so early was because I cancelled on a Tinder date this evening because I had bad period pains.

I’ll be straight with you, I secretly quite like the fact I can complain about my periods. I was quite late to the puberty party so it’s still a novelty to me. A bit like when you complain that your morning latté is a bit cold, but you’re kind of secretly pleased that you have such as fabulous existence that needs a cliched morning Starbucks just to get you through the day, on your way to your (probably) important job.

Hazel’s been trying to ‘crack London’ (not a crack whore) for a while now. She’s brilliant. But she needed to find her nook, and I think she’s well on her way to becoming ‘hot property’. I met her when I was 7, when she told me quite confidently that I needn’t play skipping rope with Emily anymore, and that I could come and play football with her. Now she tells me I needn’t have one more espresso martini because it’s 5am and I have work tomorrow. I took that picture of her on Monday, after we had pad thai. I’d been having Wizard Angst so needed calming down/ cheering up/ slapping about. Hazel met me in Soho, where I work and we hit up this place called, ‘The Banana Tree’. The only reason I know it’s a good restaurant is because my ex took me there once.

I met with Rosie yesterday to talk about fundraisers and ‘The Future’. God knows what’s going to happen but I’m becoming more excited and less OH FUCK THAT WAS A STUPID THING TO DO. I’ll explain… two major life changes have happened:

  1. I handed in my notice at work, which was sad.
  2.  now post on WordPress and not Tumblr. I’m shitting my pants because I don’t know what I’m doing.

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