An ode to superglue

Holding my life together

Until yesterday, my only car key was held together with superglue.

If my key snapped in the ignition, I’d be screwed.

Yet, it’s taken me months to drive six miles to the repair shop and buy a new key.

Why am I telling you this?

Yesterday, while at the coffee shop next door to the repair place, I thought: this is so typical of me. Why can’t I just prioritise things that other people see as necessary?

But then I realised that there’s only so much I can give, and I often have to consciously give my time and energy to things that I know are important but that I can’t really see as more important than other aspects of my life.

I’ve written before about my inability to keep my house tidy, and I think this is an extension of that. I just cannot see the value in practical things, even if my rational brain knows that having only one car key, a super glued one at that, is a recipe for disaster.

Ideally, in a long-term relationship, at least one of you would be practically minded, with the skills to be able to fix a dripping tap or the instinct to cut the grass when it goes. But both Craig and I find these things really, really difficult. I am wondering if we are alone in this.

Our parents and other boomers in our life seem to find it mind-boggling that we have peeling wallpaper, a yard full of cardboard and a broken bathroom tile. But then I remember that we have two rescue dogs, a toddler and run a business, all without ‘a village’ that many of that generation relied on.

In some ways, this is a weakness of mine. I don’t just procrastinate on these tasks; I sometimes don’t even see them until someone else points them out or they become a serious problem. I envy those with perfect, tidy homes and organized kitchen cupboards… but I don’t want to make the sacrifice of actually doing those things myself. So, the cycle continues.

And it is a sacrifice because, contrary to Molly Mae’s belief, I do only have 24 hours in a day and how I am able to channel that might be different to someone else with a better support network, a more practical mindset, more money or just generally better resources.

It takes me six months to fix a key, but I have published 171 newsletters in 213 weeks - even throughout raising a baby, I tried to keep this up. I’ve read 16 books and ran 271 km this year so far. Our business has invoiced a decent figure. Our dogs are fed, and Potter is up-to-date on this arthritis treatment. Our daughter is fed, clean and happy.

So, when you’re spinning this many plates, it’s normal for something to drop.

And that’s okay (or at least I’m trying to tell myself that it is).

The reason I’m writing this is not to toot my own horn; if anything, I’m embarrassed by my inability to prioritise very important tasks. I just want to highlight the fact that it’s okay to have different outputs and that that person you see publishing a weekly newsletter or attending the gym every day is probably dropping a plate somewhere else in their life.

And that dropping plates is completely normal. Sometimes, you just have to force yourself to pick them up and superglue them back together as best you can.

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On Monday, I went to see Angels of the North Drag Show - the top three queens from season 5 of Ru Paul’s Drag Race are all from the region, and this was a homecoming show to remember. It was worth staying up past my bedtime for!

We also touched some sand at the weekend, taking Miri to the beach to splash in the sea and some vinegar-drenched chips. I’d much rather be doing this than hoovering my house, that’s for sure.

Other things I’ve enjoyed this week include:

📺Baby Reindeer (Netflix) - Everyone is talking about this, and for good reason. Amazing television, just be wary of the trigger warnings.

📺 Heartbreak High S2 (Netflix) - This Aussie revival is the perfect antidote to the previous mention.

That’s all from me this week! Next week, I’m on my jollies but I will probably still write a newsletter because I’m nothing if not consistent.

Ellen x