Chapters on Wheelz

You ever look up from what you’re doing and realise it’s suddenly dark outside, your tea’s gone cold, your phone’s on 2%, and you’ve somehow forgotten to blink for the last hour and a half? Yeah. That’s when you know time just packed its bags and left the chat.

(A blog post for the chronically polite and perpetually baffled)

Right, we need to talk. No, seriously – pull up a chair, grab a cuppa (tea or coffee, I’m inclusive like that), and let’s unpack one of my biggest daily gripes: rudeness. I’m talking about the kind of behaviour that makes you raise your eyebrows so high they practically move in with your hairline.

Right, let’s get comfy and crack open this juicy little question like a bag of crisps you swore you weren’t going to eat but did anyway.

Are you seeking security or adventure?

Well, buckle up, because this question is basically asking:

If I could host a dinner party and anyone I invited was guaranteed to turn up? Oh, the power. The drama. The potential awkward table conversations!

Honestly, I wouldn’t waste this opportunity on being modest. This is my fantasy dinner, and we’re going full glam, full weird, full chaos.

Let’s talk about sleep—or the chaotic ballet I like to call “The Great Bed Battle.” Because for me, getting up and going to bed isn’t just a routine… it’s an event. A saga. A full-blown production with dramatic sighs, sleepy negotiations, and at least three internal monologues that sound like a Shakespearean soliloquy.

Let’s start with mornings.