Beanie hats and broken hearts.

Due to the events of my day I've came to two conclusions;

1. I am a living, breathing ball of awkwardness.

2. I wear too many hats.

I think there's a link between the two things -  I'm just not critical or motivated enough to find it. Some may say the continuous wearing of hats indoor is indicative of the hipster culture. I say I have shit hair that isn't safe for human eyes. Think of it as Hairoshima.

My day started once again with the age old debate of "Bed vs Education". As do most days. Do I get up, drag myself down to the bus - or resume my position as the filling to my duvet burrito.

But I then came to the conclusion that when I'm a pencil-skirted power wanker at the top of the corporate ladder I'll be able to have a kingsize in my office. Hell, my office will be a bed. People won't know whether they're going for a board meeting or dandering around Ikea. Here's the annual report, and have a free mini pencil while you're at it.

So eventually, after tapping my snooze button more than Kanye at an arse covention. I managed to drag myself out of bed and salvage some sort of attire from my floodrobe.

I want to shake the person's hand who came up with the concept of leggings. All the practicality of trousers with a waistband that hides more sins than the catholic church. It means I get to have my cake and eat it. Then eat it again. And again.

So legging clad with a hat to hide my greasy locks I ventured to the bus stop, only to be met by minus temperatures that would promptly turn testicles into chestnuts. That's one game of conkers that you'd never forget. Due to the Arctic conditions, my right eye had kindly decided to produce an endless stream of tears. This prompted an elderly lady at the bus stop to but down her Lidl bags, sympathetically pat my on shoulder while saying, "Don't worry love, he's probably not even worth it".

It's reassuring to know I give off that, 'The only men I can trust are Ben and Jerry' type of vibe to strangers. I did have a bar of galaxy in my hand at the time, but that's completely besides the point. Happy, taken women eat chocolate at bus stops too, right?

Right?!

Thanks for reading and  you stay classy now Belfast. xo