Who is this bum?

We're trying to get shit back on track by starting a business making handmade must haves with wood. Things are getting worse between us he is wearing rose tinted glasses. How can he think that we are better off than before?

What happened to him? When did he become so disinterested in working? He thinks I have it all wrong. All I care about is making money, seeing the world. According to him money shouldn't matter.

Are you kidding me? Who is this bum?


Phil promised me things would be so much better financially, but they're not. Phil and I are split right down the middle on what's best for us. I'd never ask him to move back to Wigan but I'm not sure living here is right for us

I miss my friends and I miss not feeling confined to one town. As nice as some of the people here are, I don't think I'm comfortable with people knowing my business so I'm never my true self, mostly because I don't want the bother and constant interrogations from people in which I end up telling them just to shut them up.

There's only so many repeated life stories I can handle, Not just when I'm behind the bar but also when I'm sat at the bar, and, the questions about my hair!!! Honestly, I've never seen any of them ask each other questions on their hair style.

People haven given me the nickname 'tree lady'. It's mildly amusing that they think I hug every tree I see. Or that they even think of me as a hippy. For one thing, I'd never touch Quinoa, Primarks always a winner too, I admire the exquisite embroidery and the talent of such young seamstresses. I'm joking!

Some crackhead tried and failed to steal a guitar tonight from the pub. I've also been thinking about calling it a day with this blog, I find I can't really write about what I want to as I now feel a bit restricted in what I can and can't say.