Look at me, doing all these lifestyle posts lately. (Don’t tell anyone, but it’s because I’m too poor to buy any more clothes to shoot. Shh.)
I never thought of myself as the type of person who got sad; whilst I don’t have a whole heap of glowing things to say about myself, I think I have a good sense of humour and I’m (on the whole) fairly cheerful. However, lately, I’ve become this drippy, moany, misery-guts of a person, who (frankly) I don’t like. And you know what’s ridiculous? The things that make me sad are downright STUPID. Like crying at the Antiques Roadshow (legitimately happened), and throwing a strop because I didn’t have plans on a Saturday afternoon. So, because I’m a believer in GETTING THINGS OFF YOUR CHEST, here’s some of the things that make me sad…
when i don’t have any plans
I briefly touched on this earlier, but BY GOD I get so miserable and dark and twisty when I’m left by myself. Now: before you get confused, I’m not talking about when I make the decision to be alone. I LOVE spending time by myself, and I’ve got this blog post and this blog post to prove it. Your Honour.
I’m talking about when you actually WANT to do something with your free time, but everyone is busy with their other friends or boyfriends or families, so you’re left to fester in your apartment by yourself all weekend long. This makes me ratty and argumentative and I spend 48 hours wallowing in my misery, cursing all my friends for not wanting to play with me and generally feeling unloved. Unfortunately, this happens a lot more than it used to: I moved up to Manchester just over a year ago, and live in a fairly remote and dull area. My nearest friends are about a 40 minute drive away, minimum, so spur of the moment plans/after work drinks/quick-coffee-and-catch-up-dates don’t really happen anymore; for someone who spent four years at Uni with a wonderful group of gal-pals, it massively sucks, and I’m finding it hard to adjust to being a ginormous social pariah. (Okay, that’s an exaggeration, but you get my point…)
because i can’t have a pet
I grew up with pets: my family always had a zillion cats knocking around, and, until recently, we had a fat little dog, too. I love having animals around the house – it’s so nice to hear them pottering around and knocking things over and yowling at each other and generally being a nuisance. Unfortunately, I live in a top floor flat, so having a cat (my preferred pet of choice) is not an option; I’m fairly sure that my landlords wouldn’t like it, and I’d feel bad cooping a cat up indoors all day with no access to the outdoors. But this makes me SUPER SAD, and whenever I see the McVities advert with all the kittens frolicking about it breaks my heart a little bit. Waaaah.
when i see myself in candid photos
If you guys follow me on Instagram (please do, I’m such a likes-whore), you’ll be under no illusion that I’m a fan of selfies and outfit pictures. You probably – understandably – think I’m really vain.
Actually, it takes me about forty years to take a selfie or #ootd that I deem worthy for social media, because 99% of them are gross. Seriously – I’m horribly unphotogenic if I’m not pouting “seductively” into my camera, and whenever I see candid photos of myself, I feel a bit sick. At the moment, I’m super stressed – in turn, I’m feeling pretty unhappy with my hair and skin and general appearance, and I’m stress-eating and breaking out in spots and just looking a bit crap. I’m really trying to stay out of the lens’s way…
not having any money
So, you’ll all probably agree: having no (or limited) funds really sucks. I hold my hands up here and admit that this is fundamentally down to my ASOS and Missguided habits – but also because I save a bit each month, and pay a fortune for my flat and bills and car, which then leaves me with about £300 spare per month to fund said online shopping addictions. There are things I’d like to do more often, like go out for lavish dinners with my boyfriend, and treat myself to something a little more jazzy than a pair of £20 heels from BooHoo, and have my hair cut and coloured professionally, but my limited spends means I can’t really – so I get all moody and petulant, like a spoilt brat. Ahh, adult life…
because i’m still unsure of my style identity
How utterly tragic does that sound? I didn’t really know how to phrase this one, but let me explain…
I often look back at outfits I wore, or trends I tried to rock, and think: I really didn’t get that right. Working in fashion, I struggle with what actually looks good on me and what’s just a stupid trend; the same with my makeup, because I have this secret hope that one day I’ll figure out how to make myself look drop dead gorgeous with minimal effort, but still haven’t worked it out. Sometimes I feel a bit frumpy and unfashionable, or like I’ve got such heavy lipliner I look like a drag queen, and it makes me want to throw all my clothes away and live in my dressing gown. It’s got an owl-shaped hood though, so maybe that’s not such a bad thing.
Okay – nothing here is particularly major, is it? Writing this post has definitely made me realise that the things that make me sad are within my control or a bit silly – so if you’re feeling sad, MAKE A LIST TOO! Let’s make this a thing? Yeah? No? Okay.