When I wake up

I brush my teeth and wash my face. It takes forever to do both. With the teeth, I’m one of the only people in the world who actually pays attention to the two-minute timer on their electric toothbrush. It’s a really long time when you’re just standing there marvelling at the way your hair always finds a new angle at which to stick up and trying not to dribble Colgate down your pyjamas. With the face, there’s something unpleasant about that first shock of water on skin first thing in the morning. I’ll happily throw myself into the sea on any given day, but get soap involved and water is immediately a chore.… Read More When I wake up

Public trouser removal

The hill doesn’t last too long before it flattens out, but by the time I get to the top I’m already sweating like a pig badass athlete. I’ve made the wrong clothing choice. The rain has all but stopped, the sun is fully out, and the trousers are making me feel like something you boil in the bag. I am at a metaphorical and, coincidentally, literal crossroads.

In a split second I make a choice, and pull into the car park of the doctors. I happen to know that there’s a little space behind the building where I occasionally leave my bike when I have to go in. I hop off, quick as a flash, and whip down my waterproofs.… Read More Public trouser removal

The vending machine gods

Stealth water gulping accomplished, I returned to my vending machine mission. Now t wasn’t so much about getting my drink as it was about damage limitation. My money was still in there. I tried to overpay a few more times. I smacked the coin return as hard as I could. I contemplated being the kind of person who’d go to the reception desk to complain about a vending machine, but I realised I’d pay at least £1.20 to never have to do that.… Read More The vending machine gods

Nans on party buses

Every year, after the summer holidays are over but before the leaves have even changed colour, the nation’s pensioners get on coaches with their friends and head to low-to-mid priced hotels throughout the countryside. They eat Christmas dinner, snack on mince pies, and enjoy a “traditional festive atmosphere”, which I assume means ‘enough wine to run a small pub for a night’.… Read More Nans on party buses

Take it Teasy

Cornwall has its own language. It’s on the street signs, so you know it’s a thing. It’s called Kerneweck, and I have had to forcibly stop myself from buying phrasebooks at least nine times since I moved to Falmouth. Not that it’s bad to learn languages, it’s just that if learned – and subsequently busted out – some Kerneweck, I’m pretty sure only about two people would understand me. And the chances of those two people being the two people I was coincidentally wanting to speak to would probably be pretty low because of, like, probability and stuff. Plus, I really haven’t got a handle on the accent yet so it’d sound a lot like the time I made a very poor attempt at GCSE French all over again.… Read More Take it Teasy