Things weren’t as pure as they ought to have been during the first lunar cycle of the year. I dropped the alcohol cleanse five days into it as you ‘can’t have a curry without a beer’, the smoking thing also didn’t work out because nicotine has a certain hold over the weak (and the not-so-weak) and my main priority for the month – having a job to start as soon as my diploma course finished – was also not successful, because although I bagged myself one, I decided not to go through with it (for reasons undisclosed here).
I needed a break after the chaos of January, so I went home for a few days. It was as lovely as I hoped it would be. The house smelt so clean. My huge piles of stuff had been downsized and transferred into the smaller spare room, meaning my mum did the work I’d been trying to do for 15 years in six months.
It’s strange how strong the feeling of returning to a familiar habitat can give you a real sense of renewal, reminding you of things you once valued so much that you forget you even had (I am talking about my record collection here, not my mother). When I got back to London, I put antibacterial wipes underneath my slippers and shuffled around my room. It now smells like apples. Now’s the time to treat yourself well, get over the last hurdle of winter and look forth to spring being the best version of you you feel like being right now. Behold, 10 songs:
