A handy guide to creating your bespoke hell on earth
Doing the work is the sure fire way to avoid the fiery furnace
PRE AMBLE
Before we start, some housekeeping. (Isn’t it funny when people say that at the start of conferences and talks and funerals and things. I always expect the speaker to whip out a dustbuster or start wiping down surfaces.) Answering today’s big question will be a pootle on the B and C roads with a cacophony of barely apt memes. It’s going to take a while so you might want to put the kettle on and make a bracing brew. It’s a bit early for a can of cold lager, unless you’re a Polish builder off to work.
If your nourishing poison is a steaming ceremony grade matcha with oat milk, save yourself all the whisking, heating and lump removal and just jog to the coffee shop and be taxed heavily for being that person. If you’re me, right now, go back to bed with a cup of tea, plus a back up flask of green tea and stay there until your boyfriend’s disapproving mother (from here on in known as the not quite M-in-Law - NQMiL) has left the house.
There’s a leak in the flat, see. The NQMiL is hosting the dogs and me for close to two weeks while the chaotic evil of builders deal with it. It’s been a special endurance feat in sucking up criticism, judgement, self-righteousness, huffing, tutting, eye-rolling and a special little disparaging laugh when I do something she perceives as a bit townie. It’s astonishing really, how someone could openly display quite how incredibly useless they think I am. The little dog chasing her sheep has not helped. My stepfather does it as well. Perhaps you need to be related to me by blood to actually like me.
Actually, we get on fine. It’s just the usual rubalong of two souls, fractious in their own ways. It’s a two way street. Of course it is. We’re just two chickens pecking at each other in our own familiar way. Every now and again I have a hard old swipe back. “What’s it like never having had a job.” And, “Gosh, you are wonderful. If only I could be as wonderful as you. You must give me the recipe.” Godzilla, but pass agg. But also, every now and again I thank her for having me to stay and tell her, genuinely, that she is lovely.
Having mined three weary mean comedy tropes already (drinkers of wellness beverages, mother in laws and Polish builders) let’s turn to today’s big question. Why do we hang on the word of wellness, fitness, nutrition and health influencers? Some of them are great, others among them are spreading muck.
A short answer, for me, is so that I can make a living valorising them before moving on to taking the piss out them. Which would be the truth, but only a part of it.
dot dot dot…finally we get to the actual story and a c*nty little paywall.
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