“And What Do You Do?” “Oh, Me? I’m A Twat.”

Fuck. I am at an event and some bastard has introduced me to another person. I was quite happy standing in the corner inhaling the canapés and taking full advantage of the free booze and texting my friends, but now I have to talk.

“And what do you do?” Says the stranger stood in front of me.

Jesus. How can I answer that when I don’t even bloody know? I never know what to say.

Do I say I am a writer? Because then they ask what I write and I have to tell the truth: Anything that anyone will pay me for. Then I get pitying looks and stories about how their cousin works for a broadsheet and OH MY GOD I DON’T CARE.

Do I say I work in forensic mental health? Because then they will ask what it is and and I get flustered and say something like “You know, rapists and shit” and they think I am weird.

Do I say I am am a stay at home mother? Because, fuck that. No one wants to talk to someone who wipes a toddlers arse all day and never gets changed out of her pyjamas (I am not slagging you off, it’s what I do). That shit is boring and as soon as you utter the words “I’m a stay at home mum” their eyes will glaze over and they will suddenly realise where that faint smell of sick is resonating from (you).

Actually, telling people that you are a stay at home mum is a great way to get them to fuck off and leave you alone so you can carry on shoving those mini pizzas into your mouth.

Do I tell them the truth? “Honestly love, I sit on my arse chasing work, arguing with a toddler, writing shit to keep up the blog stats, constantly fight with myself not to eat the contents of the fridge and watch conspiracy shit on YouTube until it’s time to start drinking”.

Depending on what mood I am in (or how drunk I am), I make shit up.

When I was thin I used to pretend I was unhappily married to a footballer who was shagging the nanny. I had an impressive backstory, full of strip clubs and woe and it was brilliant fun.

There was also the phase I went through of putting on a Russian accent and pretending I was a high class hooker turned properly developer.

I am a huge fan of pretending to be Australian too.

I once also had a fantastic boyfriend who was as much of a twat as me and we would pretend to be a Greek couple who were hard of hearing.

So maybe I should start being truthful.

“And What Do You Do?”

“Oh, Me? I’m A Twat.”

 

 

 

 

 

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