There are few things to depend on these days: the housing market is reliably dire, supermarket sandwiches are dependably disappointing, and Brexit will be on the news. Britain is in a terrible mess and it's all so confusing that our political reporters are turning to Mr Blobby for analysis.
So as you might have gathered from the title this blog post should be a more serious one (it might not be though, just because I usually find that joking about my mental health issues is the only way I can talk about them so I guess we have to wait and see how this thing goes).
I am not an incredibly impulsive person, or at least I never used to be. When I was in high school, I would plan out my essays in advance, I would schedule dinner plans at least a week away so it wouldn’t be difficult to adjust, and I would always double-check with friends to make sure we had everything squared away for a party.