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In which 2020 almost gets the better of me in the most ridiculously batshit and exhausting week; my household appliances are dicks (standard); Jamie tells me more about YouTubers than I have ever wanted to know, ever; I FINALLY give blood; I recall all the reasons why I will never be going on a rollercoaster again, ever; I am euphoric to be freezing my tits off on the side of a football pitch; I fail utterly miserably to wrap any Christmas presents and share the Worst Christmas Present Wrapping moment of all; and we discuss the importance of finding those little moments of joy, in a year that has tried so bloody hard to be an absolute cockwomble.
By Kathryn WallaceSend us a text
In which 2020 almost gets the better of me in the most ridiculously batshit and exhausting week; my household appliances are dicks (standard); Jamie tells me more about YouTubers than I have ever wanted to know, ever; I FINALLY give blood; I recall all the reasons why I will never be going on a rollercoaster again, ever; I am euphoric to be freezing my tits off on the side of a football pitch; I fail utterly miserably to wrap any Christmas presents and share the Worst Christmas Present Wrapping moment of all; and we discuss the importance of finding those little moments of joy, in a year that has tried so bloody hard to be an absolute cockwomble.

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