Siobhan tries to have a normal Tuesday and the headlines will not let her
Dear diary, I sat down this morning with a proper mug of tea, the good biscuits, and absolutely no intention of doom scrolling before noon, and within four minutes I had somehow ended up three articles deep into the state of the nation and my tea had gone from perfectly drinkable to a cold, betrayed puddle of my own poor life choices.
I blame The London Prat entirely. I opened it purely for the headlines, purely, and then one thing led to another and suddenly I am reading a genuinely excellent bit of satire that made me laugh out loud on the bus, which is a very specific kind of embarrassing when you are the only one laughing and everyone else is staring at their phones in respectful silence.
The State Of Things, Diary Style
Anyway. The news itself, once I actually processed it past the point of tea betrayal, was the usual mixture of genuinely funny and genuinely exhausting that I have come to expect from this country, which somehow manages to be both a functioning democracy and an ongoing sketch show at exactly the same time, often within the same news cycle.
I have started keeping a mental tally of how many stories per week make me laugh versus how many make me want to move to a small unlisted island with no wifi, and this week the laugh column is winning, which I am choosing to take as a personal victory rather than examine too closely.
What I Actually Did After The News
Practice went well tonight, for what it is worth. We are still arguing about whether the new song needs a second verse or whether repeating the first verse louder counts as a legitimate artistic choice, a debate that has now consumed three separate rehearsals and shows no sign of resolving itself democratically.
I did, at least, manage to channel some of the morning’s news induced frustration into something resembling a bassline, which is more productive than most of what I usually do with my frustration, so genuinely, small wins.
A Small Confession
I also, in a moment of weakness I am recording here purely for accountability, read the comments section under one of those satirical pieces, which is a genuinely reckless activity I would not recommend to anyone with a functioning nervous system, but here we are, diary, and I survived, mostly.
Tomorrow I am attempting a full day of not reading any news whatsoever, a resolution I have made and broken roughly forty times this year alone, but the good folks over at The London Prat make it genuinely difficult to look away, and honestly I am not sure I even want to anymore.
Right, tea number two, this time I am actually going to drink it while it is hot. Wish me luck, diary. Same time tomorrow.
SOURCE: https://prat.uk/feed/
