January is back. With vengeance.

January is all like ‘oh hey! Hey Han (January feels comfortable with nicknames – January is a cocky bitch that way) Remember me? I’m December’s older shittier stepbrother. Han. I’ve got some treats for you this month…’

January begins with a hangover.

My January begins with me throwing up peach snaps and chilli con carne. So. ‘This my life.’ I thought, as I wiped a kidney bean from the toilet seat.

I return to university.

This is a bittersweet time. On the one hand, I get to go back to University. I am reunited with my creative counterparts, the uni Bant-taaah ensues. I go back to leaving wet towels on my bed, without a parent screaming: ‘YOU ARE NEARLY 20 YEARS OLD, WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM WITH CLEANLINESS’. I instead return to my flatmates, ‘Hey han, just, er, don’t want to be that girl. But it’s just, erm, could you, like, if you don’t mind, perhaps, you know, clean your stuff?’ They are so polite and sweet; unlike my parents. *raises fist, shakes repeatedly in to air ‘Bloody parents, always trying to teach me manners’*

Student Loan returns

‘JAEGER BOMBS ON ME – YO TO THE FUCKING LO – STUDENT LOAN BABY’ shouts a guy at a bar. Somewhere. I assume. A guy at bar has never offered me a jagerbomb. But anyway, My loan arrives. Life is good.

Housing woes

But then I have to place a deposit on a house, and those drinks don’t pay for themselves. Bye student loan. It was fun while it lasted.

New Years Resolutions

Who the fuck invented New Years resolutions? Some condescending do-gooder, who loves to boast, and fucking loved the gym, and connected their stupid Nike sport app thing to twitter. Good for you, you ran 2K before 8AM. Well I can do that too. I can do good. I bought Davina McCall’s new DVD. And that new sports bra. Those trainers practically paid for themselves. So like, whatever. I don’t care. I have an overdraft for a reason. It’s quite cold in January. Is that rain? I might, just stay in tonight. I’ve set my alarm for 6 AM, so tomorrow. I promise tomorrow. Tomorrow is the day I run. As Annie the friendly ginger orphan bet her bottom dollar, there will be sun tomorrow.

Dissertation question deadline

Oh yeah. That’s a thing apparently.


Oh Hey January


The life and times of Timmy the fish

On my first day at university, I was nervous, I wanted people to like me, and be my friend. So I don’t know why, but I told them the story of Timmy the fish. I think they laughed. I’m not sure if it was out of pity or politeness. But they laughed. So here is the story of Timmy the fish.



Timmy was a gold fish that my grandparents had bought to occupy my young cousins when they came to stay. He was simply an innocent gold fish. He had no beef with any other fish. He was the only fish around these parts. He had a happy life. He swam all day, and was fed regularly. He was a hit. The best gold fish in this town. We all enjoyed Timmy’s company. So much so, that my Gran and Papa decided to get more fish. So Timmy could have more friends. So Timmy would not be so alone.


Shit was about to hit the metaphorical fan.

Timmy was not at all pleased with his new ‘pals’ (if you could call them that. Pfft, stupid new fish, they think they’re the best- but they are actually the worst, they’re not even gold fish. They are probably silver fish. The second class citizens of the fish world).

After a few days, the new fish started to disappear. My grandparents could simply not work out why. They hadn’t died. There was no trace of these new fish. Where had the new fish gone?!

Strangely, around this time, Timmy started to get beefier. No one wanted to confront Timmy. Who are we to judge? Maybe he’d been hitting the gym? Maybe he’d been doing a few more lengths of the tank. Get off his back.

However, the next week, all of the new fish had disappeared. No bodies were found. The situation was fishy. Timmy was looking shifty. I could see it, he was cracking under pressure of accusations from my Gran and Papa. “We think Timmy ate the new fish, He’s got massive, and we can’t find the other fish” Timmy had been found out. Timmy had grown around 3 times his normal size. Maybe he was bloated, maybe he had too much fish food that day… or maybe, just maybe he had eaten all the fish.

After the disappearance of the new fish, Timmy was kept upstairs. Apparently he scared my little cousins. He lived a lonely and desolate life after this. My uncle gave him to someone from work. He warned them, that Timmy was “mental”, he was not your average gold fish. I assumed, his new owner shrugged this off, but he doesn’t know the awful things that Timmy was accused of.

Did Timmy eat all the new fish? I don’t know. And I guess we’ll never know. Because gold fish can’t talk, so he will never be able to answer my questions. I guess some things are best left unknown. But he was a good fish. A kind fish. He was Timmy. He will never be replaced.