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A few weeks ago I spent an entire Wednesday eating pistachios because I was balls deep in my own overwhelm. Eventually, surrounded by empty shells and my own tears, I took it upon myself to write this blog in the hope that I spare you, dear reader the torment of your own procrastination (the number one symptom of overwhelm).

The following day, blog unfinished, I was wondering around the internet and I saw this quote which was cited to UNKNOWN AUTHOR.

So, in the interests of not wanting this little quote to feel abandoned and unloved, I’m claiming it as my own!

It looks like she took a pair of scissors in each hand and, starting BEHIND my ears, hacked in a fringe until the scissors met somewhere off centre and at different heights near the middle of my forehead.

Still, lessons were learnt (like, Mum couldn’t and shouldn’t cut hair), hair grows back and nothing stays the same.

But even though I know intellectually that nothing stays the same, I can be transported back in time the moment I step foot in my childhood home.

I don’t believe in time. It’s a distrustful thing that boggles my mind and makes no sense in my soul. In the (almost) eight years I’ve lived in Australia, I’ve never been able to get my head around the idea of the time difference and my UK friends and family are regularly woken obnoxiously in the middle of the night by the shrill sound of an overseas ringtone. I’ve stopped apologising for it and just accept my mistake when they abruptly hang up on me having established there is no emergency other than my brain “doing an Emily”.

It is some time in 2015 at 2:34AM exactly and I am making 173 cookies.

173 gluten fucking free cookies mind you.

As the whir of the fan oven and the glare from the overhead halogen light bulbs obnoxiously remind me that I am indeed awake and this is not a nightmare, I wonder how the hell I got myself into this in the first place.

Why did the word ‘yes’ come out my mouth when really I meant ‘no’?

“No Sharon I won’t make you 173 gluten free cookies for your Goddamn wedding reception. I don’t have the time, the money or the energy and frankly I’m not sure if we’d even be friends if it weren’t for the fact that we are thrown together on a daily basis because of our jobs.”

But no, little old people pleaser over here went and said “yes, sure thing, for tomorrow? No problem.”