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There is a version of me that would have stayed in her seat, headphones in, scrolling past the whole thing with the mild, practised detachment of someone who has commuted long enough to develop a resting bus face. That version of me did not show up today. Today, apparently, I decided the bus route home needed a mediator, and that mediator would be an increasingly furious Australian woman with limited patience and, in hindsight, questionable self-preservation instincts. Let me

Every couple of weeks, my brother sends me a message. Not "how are you," not "miss you," just a "happy X week". Week 1. Week 3. Week 13. Week 17. Week 20. Week 27. Week 30. Week 35. What was a single digit has now morphed into two. My brother is not one for an emoji or sentiment of any kind, so I have chosen not to read too deeply into the counting. Mainly because the alternative interpretation is that he is running a very organised sweepstakes on when this whole thing comes

If you haven't written or journaled before, you may not be aware of how much it helps to release internal thoughts and troubles that are affecting you. I have never been good at staying consistent with journalling, but when I feel inspired, or am struggling with something, I do feel better for getting thoughts out in long form. And although it is a therapeutic exercise, when you hit publish on something so personal and open to public opinion, there is a small amount of fear i

This week I have been in a foul mood, and I mean the kind of foul mood where everything, whether rational or irrational, is deeply and personally offensive to my existence. I genuinely cannot explain it, and believe me I have tried, cycling through the usual suspects with the dedication of someone who really should have just gone for a walk instead. It could be a full moon. It could be that I am forty-two and my hormones have apparently decided to take an extended sabbatical