I’m Motivated At Being Unmotivated

Writing

I’ve become really unmotivated lately. I find sticking to schedules more painful than the thought of chewing shards of bottlegreen glass as if they were cornershop penny chews. 

 

Working remotely at my 9 to 5 is doable, but it’s the goals I have outside of this (as we all have) which I feel completely uncompelled to partake in. It’s so frustrating, here I am at 1 minute past 5pm, I should be jumping for joy at the thought of going for a workout in the garden or getting better at my language learning. 

 

Yet instead, much to my disappointment, I find myself crawling into the pyjamas and making the greasiest pile of shite for dinner, followed by a helpful dose of ‘Botched’ for dessert. (If anyone has watched this show, let me tell you now, do not eat a damn thing mid-watch. For it’’ll be hitting your ceiling via projectile vomit well before you have even had  a chance to take a second bite. Let’s just say the graphic scenes in this reconstructive surgery show would make roadkill look like a pageant Queen. And with that, I’ll say no more). 

 

Anyway, as I allow the daylight hours to fall through my hands like sands at the seaside, the guilt begins to wash over me – normally around 1am when my head hits the pillow. I’ve just wasted yet another day’, unfortunately this is the all too familiar opening dialogue of my monologue rant that I play through most nights of my very lack-lustre days. ‘Why didn’t I try harder, do I not care enough about succeeding, do I not have enough passion for these so-called ‘goals’ of mine?’  

 

I fall asleep under the waves of annoyance and frustration. Forgiving myself monetarily as I work at the dayjob only to start the cycle all over again as the sun begins to set. Why do I bother having ‘goals’ if I can’t be bothered to put in the effort to achieve them?

 

Are they really not things that I truly want? Am I just trying to achieve them to impress other people? Do I have too many goals simultaneously and perhaps the pressure of this ask is too much that my subconscious simply rejects them all in a desperate attempt to keep my cortisol levels mildly below fFreaking the f*ck out’? Who knows. I wish I had the answers. 

 

I spend alot of time thinking, and not enough time doing, Maybe perhaps this is the real crux of it all. The cure to all of my problems, and much much more. Human beings – procrastinators sitting pretty in their suits of skin and bone. So perfectly imperfect, we have the minds to create goals, and the minds to prevent them happening. 

 

Where the f*ck is my self-help book off Amazon, I think it’s perfect timing for a read of the blurb as a bit of light bedtime reading before I pass out whilst skimming over the introduction about the author.

 

I hope you’re achieving your goals as I sit and blabber about the fact that I’m about as far away from mine as the 2 poles are from eachother on this Godforsaken planet. Or then again, maybe knowing that you’re struggling too will give me a sense of sweet sweet schadenfreude as I stare aimlessly through my bay windows sipping unsweetened tea when really I should be working on my tax returns. 

 

Either way, goals can be achieved, and they can be unachieved. Formed and removed. The choice is mine. Today I may choose to not put effort in, and tomorrow I may choose to do the opposite. Outcomes change, when I change my actions. Actions change when I change my attitude. My attitude changes when I change the words I tell my own mind. 

 

And with this it’s time to put away my tiny violin if only for a moment, and put these words into action (tomorrow ofcourse :p). 

I Hate Public Transport With A Passion

Writing

If you’ve happened to be following my journey on the misery train so far, you’ll know that my belief firmly holds – trying to live in London for two weeks on £30 will make climbing Mt. Everest look like a walk in the park in comparison.

 

My hands are already physically shaking as I type due to my inner yearning for anything sucrose, glucose or dextrose based before I become comatosed by the end of this post.

 

So before I’m induced into a diabetic coma, I just thought I’d update you on day 3 as I don’t know if they’ll still let me write from my prison cell once I’m taken in for stealing a loaf of wholemeal from my local Saino’s. Either that or I’ll be lying under a park bench looking like the voldemort baby I presented to you in the other post. So with that being said, I better pull my fingerS out and start typing just that little bit faster.

 

Ayway, where was I? Oh, yes, I was about to break into a song and dance about how much I deteste everything and anything to do with public transport. Speciifally the red buses here in London, as I’m too poor to use the tube I’m forced to sit reluctantly on the slow-coach bus. With the simple learning lesson being ‘money really can buy you happiness’. If the last 3 days have shown me anything, it’s shown me that my level of hatred is a bottomless pit. Yes, just when I thought I couldn’t despise something anymore, I come to the stark realisation that my hatred has a basement.

 

Let me tell you for why:

 

 

1) Buses are magnets for the people you cross the street (3 times) to avoid

 

Just when I thought the tube had the biggest share of the wannabee murders, rapists and tax evaders, the red buses of the city of London quash this idea in a heartbeat. Honestly I  would quite willingly hang off of the roof of the double decker by my hair than sit next to another person simultaneously, grinding their teeth and frothing at the mouth from their morning dose of listerine all while indulging in a sing-along of the old favourite ‘Kumbayah My Lord’ whilst rocking back and forth hugging their knees to their chest. (And there’s me thinking men can’t multitask).

 

2) The Loudly Obnoxious & The Obnoxiously Loud Phone Callers

I don’t care what you’re having for tea, that your boyfriend dumped you for your sister, that your gerbil croaked it (ok maybe this one). I don’t care, and neither does any of the other psycho passengers on  the bus. So why then do you feel the need to tell us all about your boring life at the top of your wheezy lungs? And while you’re doing that at the front of the bus we have your second cousin in the back trying to shout above your shouting on the phone, yelling to us all ‘thank Jesus that I’m a good person, no one else matters only me’. Seriously the amount of people I hear gloating and boasting about their delusioned sense of self is truly sickening. I thought this country had a problem with depression not self obsession?! Perhaps the 2 really are linked. I don’t care if you think you’re God’s gift, you certainly aren’t mine so clear off!

 

3) Petty Thieves

Why should I work my ass off all day in a 9 to 5 for some thug to hop on the bus without swiping his oyster, contactless or donating a kidney at the very least? Point being, time and time again I see these thieves jumping on the bus not paying, instead heading straight up to the top deck and not being stopped or questioned by the bus driver once? Seriously why should I pay for them to have a seat on the bus? They aren’t paying my rent, bills or travel, so why should I cough up on theirs? If I still have the moral decency to pay when I have literally nothing left at this stage, why can they not pay the fare when they are almost certainly not in as dire a place as I at this moment in time?

 

Ok,  I need to stop now, I’m getting heart palpitations. Let the story continue another night.

ASMR – The Weird Addiction

Writing

ASMR – ‘Autonomous sensory meridian response’

Or In other words:

The triggering of a tingling-like sensation spreading from the scalp down the spine as a result of visual or auditory stimuli.

Or in other words:

A brain gasm!

Over the passed couple of weeks I find myself watching and listening to more and more asmr videos. Either I’m somehow subconsciously super stressed or else I need to find a boyfriend. I don’t know, there’s just something so addictive about them! Who doesn’t want to be entranced into a semi-sedated state by the breathy vocals of ‘gentle whispering ASMR’ or ‘ASMR Ting Ting’?

But, to be honest, maybe I shouldn’t be so honest! Much to my own dismay I’ve even started listening to it at work! Dozing off instead of doing my spreadsheets is guaranteed to get me fired, I’ve no doubt! What should I do? Why do I enjoy it so much? Why do we all enjoy it so much? Or are you one of these people who doesn’t react to the asmr triggers, like one of those people who gets poked in the eye yet still stares straight ahead, or the type that doesn’t reciprocate a yawn. If this is you, you may also be a psychopath. Don’t believe me? Then read this.

Anyway enough about your psychopathic tendencies and back to my quarter-life crisis – how the f*ck do I lessen the amount of time I’m devoting to YouTube videos of people chewing squishy foods, tapping their fingernails and whispering softly?(Basically all of the steps I attempt in my endeavours to pull a hot guy at the bar.)

You may be thinking to yourself, where’s the harm? There’s worse things I could be doing, like racing baby snails against their will or forcing myself to run 10km on the gym’s treadmill. I wish I could agree with you, but there is indeed harm being caused by this pleasurable pastime (this sounds gross). I shouldn’t be yearning for spine tingles at 12.30pm on a Wednesday afternoon while making a pie chart and eating slightly salted walnuts. Maybe at midnight when I’m trying to drift off but not midday, surely?!

Addiction is a terrible thing, I need to think of ways to get out of this rabbit hole. Maybe I’ll start watching videos of how to stop watching asmr, only to find myself becoming addicted to them.

Pray for me!

The Best Way To Stick To A Resolution – Don’t Have One

Writing

The best way to stick to a resolution is to not have one, yes you read that right. Take it from me a serial procrastinator and die-hard quitter. If you wanna get something done, don’t bloody do it! Have a look at the ‘reactance theory’ – when we feel pressured to perform action A we will most likely perform the opposite of action A to assert our freedom to ourselves.

If you call it a ‘resolution’ you’ll make it seem like a ‘chore’. Then it becomes something we feel we need to do rather than want to do. We, in a way, remove the freedom of choice by simply labelling it as a ‘New Year’s Resolution. So in that case:

  1. You Don’t Need To Go To The Gym

Gyms are full of sweat stained death traps, one wrong pull on the weight machine and you’re six feet under let’s be honest. Sure, the hot guy in the tight cotton blue t-shirt will be there but so will that pesky personal trainer, what’s his name again Marv the perv? Whatever you do just don’t squat!

  1. You Don’t Need To Give Up Smoking

That one single puff of luxury you get every 25 minutes, a much needed moment of euphoria from the usual turmoil of kids kicking and screaming and cats p*ssing on carpets. Otherwise known as general family life. If God gives you lung cancer it’s a fair trade off for the sweet serene seconds you escape Tommy’s temper tantrums you tell yourself.

  1. You Don’t Need To Save Any Money

Living in squalor really isn’t as bad as it seems, or so you keep telling yourself. Sure, you could start up a bit of a piggy bank, save something for a rainy day, but then how would you be able to afford your cancer sticks?

  1. You Don’t Need To Learn A New Skill – Like How To Crochet Blindfolded

Are you 85 or just senile through choice? Leave crocheting for the deathbed and go smash that piggy bank open instead.

If you really want to stick to your resolutions this year use a bit of voodoo witchcraft, I mean reverse psychology! Happy 2019!

Helpful link; Psychology Today

How To (Not) Celebrate New Year’s Eve

Writing

Not to sound like the village idiot or anything but am I the only one who doesn’t get all giddy inside at the thought of celebrating on New Year’s Eve?

 Sure celebrating the fact that I’m here to see yet another year through is grantable but is the off key singing of ‘Auld Lang Syne’ into my face by the word-slurring stranger at the local bar really warranted? Not to sound like a party pooper but I’m sure you’ll forgive me for giving the folly a miss in replacement for the priorities below:

  1. Washing My Hair

At the top of every hermit’s list no doubt, the moments between you and your hair are precious and need no disruption from partygoers. As the clock strikes 12am, you need only 1 thing – a deep conditioning treatment for 15 minutes exactly, no more and definitely no less #birdsnest.

  1. Counting The Coins In The Piggy Bank

 

January is bills month for most of us unfortunates, so taking a hammer to Mr. Porky couldn’t come at a better time wouldn’t you agree? With a grand total of £3.25 that’ll be more than enough to pay off the mortgage.

  1. Playing A Friendly Game Of Solitaire

No better way to welcome in the New Year than whooping Mr. Chang’s ass in a quiet game of solitaire, minesweep and let’s not forget pinball.  Mr. Chang is currently serving time in prison for accidentally falling on and consequently crushing his dearly beloved wife and their pet dog Tofu. He’s a great guy.

  1. Binge watching ‘How It’s Made’

If you’ve never heard of this show, then you must live in more of a metaphorical bubble than I do. Have you never wanted to know how cactus pear puree or racing pulley systems are made? Shame on you! Join me tonight in watching my favourite one –‘ How It’s Made –  pre-packaged sandwiches, traffic signal poles and Teflon pans’.

  1. Try Out The New Pickle Popsicle Recipe

Sure to tickle your pickle with this salty treat, briny gherkins are bad as they are in their natural form, and probably worse when frozen, so perhaps I should put this theory to the test on this final day of 2018.

While you’re cackling with the crowd of drunken and doped, I’ll be the one having the last laugh!!! (Or not)

Kidding, I love celebrating the night with none of the above I must emphasise!! Hope you have a great New year’s Eve too!

Happy New Year!

Today = My Birthday Annnnnnd Nobody Cares

Writing

I think back to how my mother must have felt 24 years ago, spread eagle, screaming ‘get this baby out of me’! The exorcism had nothing on my delivery I’m sure. Yet despite being the best possible gift my parent’s could have ever received on the Eve of Christmas, the passing of time certainly helps them forget this.

 

Nowadays, I’m lucky if I even get a card never mind a present, any I do get are always sent to me second class anyway. Christmas hasn’t always been that bad in all fairness.  Sometimes I’d get to sit on Santa’s knee in the local Mall that little bit longer, which come to think of it, I may not have been that ‘lucky’ afterall.

Don’t get me wrong their are some positives to being born during the most festive time of the year, like getting double the presents from friends at school (not from my parents, they always did the dirty deal of 1 present  does both days), getting to open presents one day earlier than my siblings, and…….I forgot to mention – getting presents! Whoever said quality over quantity must’ve had a rough childhood, or atleast a rough Christmas as a child. Yes, I was a needy child,  there was a time where if I thought my sister got one extra gift than I did I would tear down the Christmas tree, put stones in the snowballs I threw at her and poke her in the eye during the annual Christmas family photo. I did not play!

But oh how times have changed, and with age has my materialistic heart well and truly mellowed, list of gifts now only amount to 5 pages and not the usual ten, many items of which are on sale now if you hurry. It’s true, Christmas is not only about the joy of giving but the pure ecstasy felt when receiving those brand new bright blue suede shoes!

What gift are you most ecstatic about this year? Please tell me your birthday isn’t on Christmas Eve too?!

Have a very Merry Christmas – from one materialistic Muppet to another!

 

5 People To Avoid at the 24/7 petrol station:

Writing

We’ve all been in this position, you’re travelling late at night, maybe coming back from the airport or from burying your noisy neighbour once and for all, when you suddenly get a little peckish. Pulling over to the nearest fuel station seems like the wisest thing to do and you begin dismounting your 4 by 4 truck as you wipe off the last remaining wheat field sediment from your brand new Levi’s.

Upon entering the shop you are hit with the stark realisation that things just don’t seem right. You only came in for a snickers and a bread roll but instead you meet the gaze of these 5 freaks below:

  1. Microwave Meal Guy

Not that there’s anything particularly wrong with microwave meals but you know if you see someone with a basket stocked sky-high with readymade roast dinners and lasagnes, they’re either lazy af or mentally unstable. Probably an equal measure of both. Don’t you know how to cut a bloody vegetable?!

  1. The Exhausted Single Mum

Feeding 5 kids as a single parent isn’t easy, and doesn’t it show on the face of Sandra. 3/5 Kids have developed some midnight cravings, and Sandy, being the natural night-owl that she is, decides to indulge in her kids requests for pizzas, pop tarts and chocolate ice cream at 1am in the morning. Help her find the reduced in price curly fries please.

  1. The ‘Checkout’ Guy

Don’t bend down for the washing detergent to swiftly or you’ll find the watchful eye of the hormonal adolescent upon you. Really they should be at home playing Call of Duty but their parents thought it much wiser to have them bleep through beer cans and packs of tobacco in the wee hours of the morning to learn some sense of ‘responsibility’.

  1. The Guy That Stocks The Shelves

Look at him the wrong way and you’re getting stocked in the freezer next to the frozen petis pois that’s all I will say.

  1. The Serial Killer

Murdering people is heavy work, and sometimes a Happy meal just doesn’t suffice, you’ll always find them lurking near the Twinkie aisle with a hand full of bleach and marigolds in one hand, and a packet of beef jerky in the other. Quickly, give him the secret handshake, grab your soft mints and get out!

Why You & I Both Hate Shopping

Writing

Nothing sinks my heart further into the pit of my stomach than the sight of two mums fighting over the same cable-knit jumper in the ‘Winter’ aisle, or better yet, one of them fighting with yours truly. Not that I would ever buy a cable-knit jumper or anything remotely resembling it but the point still holds, going clothes shopping is like going off to war. Left, right and centre you have the fear of God struck into you by the bullish and brutish ways of the everyday shopper.

I’m not saying every passerby has their heart set on making my shopping experience a living misery, but I am saying that there are a modest few that do, and don’t they do their damndest! Here are 5 of my favourite worse case scenarios when it comes to getting the groceries in:

  1. The Fitting Rooms

You think trying on clothes in a fitting room would be a very ‘individual’ sport (unless ofcourse  you’re one of these people who takes baths with their dogs and showers with their neighbours). Atleast it’s meant to be a solo activity until you are at your most vulnerable, as naked as the day you were born and the changing room curtain suddenly wafts open thanks to the ever-so-speedy shop assistant who keeps racing up and down the changing room corridors collecting coat hangers. The curtains billow as if a tornado has just graced us with its presence all in while your modesty as a result goes out the window. Cheers coat hanger girl, your wind gush running really made my day!

  1. Have A Good Look

Picture reading the tiniest of fonts on a label the size of a postage stamp, you focus with great intent, eyes squinting, beads of sweat drip from your forehead. You need these details! Success! You’ve read that the item isn’t machine washable so you turn to head away from the product only you find yourself cornered from all sides by blank, expressionless, unfamiliar faces. That’s right just as you decided to read the label so too did 5 other people who had nothing better to do with their lives in that moment than to make you feel small and trapped in your little local mall.

  1. The Awkward Shuffle

Shopping aisles are no place for claustrophobe’s or anyone who isn’t the width of a shoestring by all accounts. We’ve all been there, heading down the aisle, opposite traffic is on the move towards us fast and steady, we panic, which side to choose? Too late, you and the geriatric have both went left when you quite clearly should’ve went right. You almost clash heads, it could’ve been worse, it could’ve been the lips. This happens to me all the time, I always awkwardly do the same shaky shuffle as I desperately try and dodge another body only to find myself grazing mine against theirs in the most inconvenient of manners. I’m sure you can share this embarrassment atleast once in your life, that is ofcourse if you dare to venture beyond your welcome doormat once in a blue moon. 

  1. Walk The Line

I know that good things come to those who wait but when you’re waiting in line and have an unruly kid upfront and 2 gossiping grannies behind you really do have to weigh up the need to even buy food or clothing at all sometimes. It’s times like this I wish I could just abort the mission of trying to live in a civilised society and run off to the Amazon.

  1. The Cashier

I don’t care if I’m the 250th person you’ve asked ‘would you like a bag?’ to, is it too much to ask that you don’t look like you’ve sucked all the lemons down the fruit and veg aisle? What is with some people that they can’t just fake a smile once in a while even if they’re dying inside? Why does the curse of lethargy and snark strike just as I step up to pay for my camel toe inducing leggings and bottle green V-neck? Check yourself out check out girl! Or I wanna see your damn manager!

 

So tell me, am I being overdramatic or does shopping turn out to be full scale warfare in your eyes also? Let’s just say, I totally get why Amazon has become a multi-billion dollar company.

 

 

food man person eating job hunting emotional stages

The Erratic Emotional Stages Of The Jobhunt

Writing

Whether you lost your job for screaming at your manager who took the risk and asked you to staple the meeting pack together on one of your ‘fragile’ days, or, you quite simply swanned out the door without slamming it (as I would’ve done). The matter of the fact is, finding that next job can be a challenging experience to say the least, and arguably moreso than what it takes to lose a job. With the fear of financial instability looming over you, but the pull of  pursuing a passion prompting you, there’s no doubt about it, the emotional journey of a jobhunter makes that of a perimenopausal female look quite poised.

Let’s have a quick glance at the stages you have to look forward to, don’t worry, we’ve all been there:

1) Week 1, As proud as punch – high fives all round as you sashay out the door, you my friend have just swerved the possibility of a blue-rinse and dentures while still tap tap tapping on the keys of this shabby office’s keyboard. You beam with pride as you think of the endless and limitless possibilities that lay before you. The world is your b*tch now!

2) Month 1, Curiosity killed the cat – It’s been 4 weeks since the walkout, you spent a week surfing in Marbella, got a grocery shop in and bought some new skirting board for the back bedroom. Perhaps it’s time to have a browse on Indeed.com you pensively ask yourself. Scrolling and scrolling you spontaneously investigate roles you never heard of: injured stunt dolphin rescuer, butter churner, seat warmer. All jobs you turn your nose up at, you, my friend,  have your eyes set on bigger prizes. You know you want to be the next Tom Cruise, you fantasise picking up that academy award, you recite your thank you speech in the mirror daily. Scrolling for office jobs and dog walking opportunities just isn’t cutting the mustard you say.

3) Month 1.5, If your dreams don’t scare you then they aren’t big enough – Being repulsed by the latest searches Google as splurted up and bored of TV repeats, you embark on a bit of work experience to get you that one step closer to being Tom Cruise’s next biggest threat. AA – Actors Anonymous pops up and you attend every Friday. Adding it to your CV alongside the Christmas play you performed in at age 12 and the extra on the cereal commercial last year. Things are looking up.

4) Month 2, Sh*t Sh*t Sh*t where’s all my money gone? – The piggy bank looks rather tempting to crack open at this stage, you look at your bank balance and realise that it will only make do for another month once bills and rent are taken out. What now? Suddenly the butter churner idea seems like a God sent. Back onto the job sites you go only to find the churner role has been snapped up, you lower your standards in desperation and start wildly applying to every job left, right and centre. CEO, Account Executive, Senior Director…….everything under the sun is getting a look in at this stage. Tom Cruise is all but a faded figure in your escaping memory of hopes and ambitions, your rent won’t pay itself you pitifully murmur to yourself.

5) Month 2.5, Bullsh*tter of the year goes to…. – you bag some interviews, none of which are remotely related to acting but necessity brings you right back to the place you didn’t want to be – fearful of your finances. Now it really is time to act, you practice the reasons why you really like the role, why you’re a fan of the company, why the position is a good fit. The question now is……do you proceed with the interview?

Why do we let money rule our lives, why do we let money ruin our lives?

Excel London Discover Dogs 2018

Psychology Test – Are You A Dog Or Cat Person?

Writing

Walking into the ExCel London yesterday afternoon I couldn’t help but think to myself – this place is a  canine lover’s paradise and feline lover’s Hell! The event I was attending at the East London event was  the annual ‘Discover Dogs’ extravaganza. It certainly got tails wagging all weekend with agility shows, best in show and let’s not forget every dog on the face of the Earth on show, quite literally!

As I made my way through all the drooling, barking and fluff, which took quite some time to be honest (I had to stop and stroke almost every dog breed, except Chihuahua’s ew, sorry)! I noticed an uncanny resemblance between owner and pooch. Turns out not only does this happen in dogs but cats also as I later found out:

Psychology #1 – Matchy Matchy

Keeping it short and sweet, it turns out that there is infact a correlation between physical resemblance of owner and pet. Pinpointing in particular – the eyes! A study conducted by Sadahiko Nakajima, a psychologist from Kwansei Gakuin University in Japan concluded that it’s not about hairstyles (which I personally find surprising), gender or weight but instead it’s the windows to the soul! A similarity between peepers seems to be the underlying reasoning behind the similarity in physical attributes between man and dog.

But what is it about the eyes? It’s been proven that colour doesn’t have an impact so is it their shape? Their twinkling cuteness? This is yet to be determined. Atleast it’s been narrowed down to some part of their being!

And turns out, similarities in owner and animal it doesn’t stop with dogs. Although we may not all be blessed with those stunning cat eyes, studies have shown that cats can actually take on personality traits of their owners.  Why? Because they’re users! I mean…. reasons could be that the owner brings out a certain side of their cat – more playtime = a more boisterous cat, who will most likely want to play more often. More cuddling  =  a  more affectionate cat.  SO the cat seems similar to the owner because the owner’s personality brings out more of that personality type in the cat. It’s like that one outgoing friend we all have, none of want to go out clubbing and the next minute we’re gyrating our hips on the dancefloor at 2am all because they batted their eyelashes at us. You are ‘that’ friend to your feline.  Cats can also adopt sleeping and eating schedules of their owners too! How bizarre and cute!

 

But enough about cats back onto canines! Below are some of pups of the day:

Excel London Discover Dogs 2018

Excel London Discover Dogs 2018

Psychology #2 – Is there really a ‘cat’ person or a ‘dog’ person?

Perhaps your preference for pooch over puss in boots or vice versa has more to say about you as a person than you first thought out.

Business Insider seems to think so, according to their report:

  • Dogs Owners earn a higher salary than cat owners
  • Cat owners are 4 x more likely to work in a creative field than dog owners.
  • Dog owners are bigger fans of horror and action films than cat owners.
  • Cat owners tend to enjoy reading, writing, dogs owners – sports and travel.

Whether you favour a feline or prefer a pup. You can’t deny the appeal of these! Unless ofcourse you’re a cold hearted robot. I’d encourage any animal fan to head to a convention near you. It boosts your mood for sure.

Excel London Discover Dogs 2018

5 Concentration Boosting Tips

Writing

As humans, I think it’s fair to say procrastinating is in our blood, some of us just do it less than others. If you want to be one of ‘those’ productive people  then give these 5 concentration-boosting methods a go:

  1. 1. Eating Tasty Food

Yes, that’s right munching on blueberries, dark chocolate, avocados, seafood and much much more good stuff gives the brain a nutrient boost of e.g. antioxidants, omega-3 fatty acids, B and E vitamins to name just a few. All of which will act as brain fuel while you continue with the task of spelling your name correctly for the first time. The struggle is real!

  1. Hug Hug Hug

Hugging has been scientifically proven to reduce anxiety by increasing the amount of endorphins in the blood stream. A decrease in anxiety will allow you to focus more intently and for longer.  Less time will be spent biting your nails down to the bone and more time on scrawling out your latest fan-fiction novel.

  1. Quidditch Match

Who doesn’t love prepping their brain for some Pythagoras theorem than by running around a poorly marked football pitch with a broom between their legs screaming ‘QUAFFLE’! That’s right, exercise does more than just the heart good. That sponge in your head will be thankful too. According to Harvard Medical school, exercise actually results in chemicals (Brain Derived Neurotrophic Factor – rewires memory circuits so they work better) being released by the brain which reduces ‘memory fog’ and cognitive decline. The key is for the exercise to be regular and moderately intense, so sorry, but if the odd jog to the supermarket for milk late at night in your slippers is your type of ‘exercise’ then prepare to forget your name by the time you’re 30.

  1. What’s That Smell?

The BBC reported that smelling lamb’s favourite herb – rosemary can increase memory, Huffpost, shared that cinnamon could increase mind sharpness and that peppermint could boost concentration. Inc, also supported the brain boosting effects of rosemary and peppermint by writing that the former can promote memory and alertness while the latter could enhance the accuracy of memory. * Just to note, these studies focused on essential oils, not your mum’s spice cupboard.

  1. Watch Funny Cat Videos

It’s been reported that laughter helps strengthen the immune system, but what has this got to do with building up our willpower? As mentioned by ABC the BBC (so many letters), having a good laugh can boost your willpower levels. But how? Supposedly laughing releases endorphins and reduces the stress hormone (cortisol) concentrations in our blood, as a result this helps boost our immune system which in exchange changes our brain wave activity, changing it more towards a ‘gamma frequency’ which aids memory recall.   So perhaps taking 5 mins to watch some funny clips or listen to your favourite comedian could just be what you need to be at your most productive.

Well, I hope you’ve been concentrating throughout my spiel above, if not I hope the distracting cat videos were worth it!! 😦

 

**This post is intended for ERIC Magazine.

23 Things learned At 23

Writing

1. My quarter life crisis is just around the corner (that’s at 25 for all you fraction phobics).

2. I can no longer sing the lyrics of Wheatus’ – Teenage Dirtbag without shuddering with guilt at the fact that am no longer a teenager.

3. My first silver hair has sprung out of nowhere, hopefully it doesn’t get a neighbour anytime soon.

4. I’m now eligible to start using wrinkle creams (atleast that’s what the drugstore is saying).

5. Getting asked for ID at clubs and pubs is greatly lessening.

6. Drinking does not do a body good.

7. 32 is not the new 23. I may not be a teen but I’m no old crow just yet!

8. Getting giddy about buying new curtains for the bathroom marks the loss of my youthfulness.

9. By this stage in life you’re either fresh back from travelling and stuck in an office job or dead in a ditch (from travelling or having enough of your office job).

10. I now get money and vouchers as birthday presents instead of fun days out and colouring pencils.

11. All my colleagues at work are atleast double my age.

12. Trying to figure out the necessity of a pension is like trying to figure out the necessity of wasps in our lives (they don’t make honey)!

13. My friends are now either engaged, married or popping out their second child (first one being due to an accidental teenage pregnancy).

14. Being single at this age scares my aging parents.

15. I’ve finally came to the realisation that I’m not going to grow any taller.

16. Too young to be taken seriously by men in suits, too old to be taken seriously by youths.

17. Education never prepared me for the conditioning needed to skilfully brew the perfect cuppa for the work colleagues.

18. The parents miss me but not as much as they use to. (Tears of sadness when I left for uni at 18, tears of joy when I leave after visits at 23).

19. If I was a tree I’d have 23 rings!

20. If I was a dog I’d be 〖94〗_2^1 years old!

21. If I was a cat I’d be dead.

22. 23 in French is ‘vingt-trois’ (vahn-twah)!

23. Age is but a number!