Diaryofawitch

I don’t know what to write this week, I was thinking I could write a fun little anecdote about my week's antics as per usual. But I can’t be bothered. What have I been up to that’s so interesting? Nothing really. That is always my response when pressed; I hate revealing my genuine secrets to people who are just making polite conversation. I know this probably all seems insane as I overshare weekly on here, but am I really saying anything? Or am I just farting into the ether? What am I thinking about this week, honestly I am thinking about people I miss, and pain au chocolates mostly. I love and hate this time of year. The spring brings so many gorgeous things with it, but for me it brings emotional whiplash. It’s my birthday soon, actually next week and I don’t want to make plans, it feels like a dishonour. I usually love attention as I am sure has become apparent; but not this month, this month is hers. I am longing to return to a home I know isn’t there, filled with people who do...

  Imposter on the panel  There’s an imposter on the panel, who could that be? You all guessed it, it’s me.  It may have begun to become obvious to you, just not me; that I have started to live my life partly - entirely for the plot of feeding this blog.  So, when I got a suspiciously vague message on LinkedIn asking me to lend my non-existent ‘expertise’ to a panel discussion, I was beyond thrilled.  This thrill, this high - unfortunately waned and dulled in the weeks leading up to my webinar debut. The reality of my nonchalantness bordering on narcissism had slowly but resolutely faded away with every new email titled Agenda!!! Discussion topics!!  It became clearer and clearer that they did well and truly believe me to be the industry expert I disguised myself as on LinkedIn. It was so delicious, so tantalising for a time to live as I imagine a straight white man does; my credentials never once questioned (I have none), with every word I spoke believed as...

Am I being fired? Girls, this is a genuine question. I cannot tell for the life of me if I am being slowly phased out at my office job, or if I am suffering from paranoia. My big boss at work keeps telling me one thing, then whipping his man bun around and claiming otherwise. It’s like working under a tyrannical toddler, who hasn’t yet gained the capacity to hold in a fart, let alone clean up their own mess. Mr man bun, seems to be under the impression that I listed clairvoyance as a skill on my cv; as his knickers have been in the biggest twist I have ever seen, since I told him that I shockingly cannot read his mind nor imaginary emails he never sent. Astonishingly, I have indeed been called in for a performance review on Monday, sick to my stomach/gassed for the potential content. Crimes I have been accused of; Being 2 hours late Being shit at the job Crimes I may or may not have actually committed; Taking big shits on company time Applying for new jobs on the clock Being on the pho...

Help, I’m a compulsive liar Oops I just did it again. Sometimes I can’t tell if lying to men for the plot of the evening makes me a sociopath or an icon. Maybe the truth lies somewhere in the middle, you’re going to have to tell me, because I have lost all sense of reality/morals in interactions with the male species.  Have I got a problem with all men? No, but I do have an issue with the theoretical concept of men. I do meet men in my day to day life that I like - have entertainment value, however when I conjure up thoughts of a man I do feel a bit (very) ill. To counteract this sickness, I take the piss any chance I get out of any and every man, level of authority or seniority mean nothing to me. In all honesty, being a menace to men feels like my life’s purpose.  So, a public service announcement to anyone who has the pleasure to encounter me in the wild, take everything and anything I say with a bucket of salt.

Am I stalker, yeh probably I have had to come to grips with the fact that I may be myself a stalker. Last night I honestly had the high of my life chasing after this man, hood up, late at night, full sprint for a good 15 minutes on my ‘mental health’ run around the port. I am pleased to say this was my fastest time on Strava and I did indeed get the award for best and fastest night prowler. I long to say this was my first brush with stalkers high, but that would be a lie and that’s something I told my therapist I would stop doing. And yes she reads this blog. There was another one that got away, Literally. A gorgeous gorgeous guy, that I named John Lennon, partially for his sassy hair but mostly for never actually getting his name, shocker. We met only one time at a party, yessss I know I’m delusional but he did smile at me so that means he loves me right? It seems going to an all girls catholic school may have had some minor consequences for my socialisation but alas what’s a girl to ...