friends

Relationships: Why it’s OK to admit that you don’t like saying goodbye

2 Comments

IMG_20141029_231750-1-783x1024My husband went away this week and I must admit that I was relieved when he’d gone.

And as much as I’d love to be writing a post about that being because I was glad to have the house to myself, that I got a week off picking pants and socks off the floor, and that I spent the entire time listening to Magic FM, watching Coronation Street and surviving on a diet of crunchy peanut butter, hot chocolate and marshmallows, I’m afraid that’s not what’s on the cards (although, for the record, I did enjoy all of that very much).

No, it’s because I hate saying goodbye. In fact, it makes me feel sick.

I’ve always been the same and not just with him. When I’m with my family at Christmas and we all eventually have to go our separate ways, when my best friend comes to stay and then she has to leave to go back to a whole different city, and when sport takes over ITV and makes me miss out on my favourite soap. I really don’t like separation.

Absence does make the heart grow fonder, which doesn’t do anybody any harm, but it also makes us vulnerable. It makes us admit that we miss people, that we wish we could be with them more, and that we have to be able to fend for ourselves without them (which, after having assessed my food choices, you’re probably questioning whether I’m capable of doing).

You think you’re done with being vulnerable when the early stages of a relationship are out of the way. You’ve been through the awkward parts, the nervous parts, the parts where you tell an anecdote about your brother finding you so annoying that he pushed a warm poached egg into your face and wonder whether they’re ever going to call again. And then you settle into it and though you obviously have to keep making an effort, you’re not afraid any more, you know where you stand (which, in my case, is absolutely nowhere near a cooked breakfast).

But then when one of you goes away, all your vulnerabilities come to pay you a visit. You stop caring so much about how terrible they are at turning the lights off in rooms they’re no longer in (like, SO terrible), and how much better life would be if they could please remember to take one of your Bags for Life with them to Tesco instead of relentlessly bringing extra plastic ones home (AM I RIGHT, LADIES) and you just hope very much that they will come home safely and carry on their life with you. It gives you a little perspective.

I have written a lot before about how important it is to have time apart and I stand by that – it’s very good for your collective health – but the bit when one of you actually has to leave is still hard. It suddenly makes you realise that the two of you are a little unit and that when one of you goes away, that unit becomes a little lop-sided. Of course you’ll be fine – as discussed last week, you’ve got to have enough confidence to survive as a stand-alone human – but you’re still allowed to acknowledge that farewells are not your favourite thing.
Sometimes you forget what a risk you take by investing everything in another person. You don’t think about the power you have to shatter each other. But it’s always there and goodbyes, even short term ones, can’t help but remind you.

All you can do is crack on with your life and look forward to the next time you’ll be together. The next family gathering, the next spa weekend with a chum, and the next opportunity to ask your other half whether he really thinks the bathroom floor is a suitable resting place for his undergarments.

Because, in your heart of hearts, you know you’d never want to say goodbye to that.

Where does your confidence come from?

3 Comments
IMG_2789

So much of our confidence is informed by evidence.

Every success, failure, romance, heartbreak, deliciously baked cake and inexplicably burnt fish finger contributes to our perception of our right to be deemed a worthwhile human being.

But we’re an unreliable witness to our own lives. It’s very hard for us to see the bigger picture – that, actually, on balance, we’re doing alright. OK, we’re not nailing it in the removing-a-cake-from-the-tin-without-it-breaking-in-two department, and our sewing skills leave a lot to be desired, but we have friends and they don’t care. A cake is still a cake, and they would very much like to eat it.

Our confidence is boosted and knocked down relentlessly – though often unintentionally – by all the people we interact with – friends, family, colleagues, that lady at the station who sometimes says she likes my hair and sometimes doesn’t. On a daily basis we can leap from thinking we’re the coolest kid on the block to the world’s biggest moron as many times as we go to the bathroom (which in my case is quite a lot. It’s important to keep hydrated).

What we need more than evidence is belief; belief in ourselves as people that are worthy of good things – of kind treatment, nice times, and a second chance at proving that we can remember to grease the cake tin first. We need that base level of confidence so that if somebody does question our choice of jeans or job or fails to laugh at our joke in which we hilariously replaced the word ‘awkward’ with ‘orchid’, we know we’re still alright. It needn’t shake us too hard.

Being in a relationship can do wonders for your confidence. Regardless of the story you told them almost knocking yourself out on the way to a McFly concert because you were just SO. EXCITED, or using an aerosol can instead of a hammer to construct a bedside table, they think you’re interesting enough to sometimes justify turning off the X-Box mid-game. And that feels good (though discovering that there’s actually just been a power cut feels less good).

But the risk is that, if you’d not yet managed to come to the conclusion by yourself that you were a worthwhile human being before they came along and told you so, you might forget to make sure you actually believe it. You might let yourself think that it’s that person who justifies you, instead of you.

Having somebody who loves you gives you some marvellous evidence to add to the case for your confidence – I recommend that you pin it to the wall and point at it daily. And you each have a huge role to play in giving the other a much needed boost every now and then (as discussed last week in my chat about the importance of pep talks), but for that to stick, you’ve got to have your own firm layer of confidence to start from. Otherwise, what are you going to do when they’re out? Or when you socialise without them? Or when you’re telling your orchid joke for the fifteenth time and people are STILL not laughing?

Oh yes, be buoyed, be supported, be delighted by their belief in you – hell, have a bloody massive grin about it for it is the greatest thing – but be sure to make time to take a strong dose of it for yourself too.

Because otherwise, in a fight between you and a broken cake or a burnt fish finger, it’s going to be them that wins. And we both know that you deserve better than that.

Relationships: How to give a good pep talk

Leave a Comment

IMG_20150111_200446-1024x1024Relationships don’t generally come with a job description – and that is for the best as that would be weird.

But in some ways one would be useful, to help you prepare for the unexpected tasks that’ll come your way. Participation in daily games of ‘have you seen my keys/phone/wallet?’ is one example, as is negotiating Sock Mountain which mysteriously forms at the end of the bed each week, despite the ready availability and easy-to-lift lid of the laundry basket.And another is always being available to give a pep talk.

Now, if you hold the same level of contempt for sport as I do (it’s high, it’s very high) then you won’t have paid much attention to the pep talk element of films before. It’s that bit where the coach tells the sports people that they’re all champions whether they win or lose but *spoiler* they always then win because that’s what happens when everybody wears matching jackets and makes speeches set to music, apparently.

But when you’re in a relationship – your own personal team which you very much want to do well – it’s you that has to give the motivational speeches. Because, as I’ve said before, you’re in charge of holding each other up against whatever might happen to come your way. Jobs will be hard, people will be tricky and sometimes Tesco will run out of chocolate covered raisins and you’re going to have to help each other through it.

Sometimes a person is just going to come right out and ask for one – they’re going to say, hey, I’m struggling and I need you to talk me down. But that will only come from somebody who knows what they need which, in my case, took about five years to learn. In the run up to such knowledge came many tantrums, throwing around of the arms and expressions of “I AM VERY UPSET AND I DON’T KNOW WHY!” My arms were constantly flailing from approx 2005 – 10, FYI.

IMG_20150111_200219-1024x1024But then there are the other kind – the more common genre – the kind that you have to force upon a person, which will come about more regularly. You will notice that the other person is in need of a boost, probably before they’ve realised themselves. Perhaps confidence is lacking, or they’re trying to conquer an age-old demon (fear of absolutely everybody in the world thinking I’m a total dickhead is a favourite of mine), or maybe they’re just overtired and need to be reminded that everything will look much better in the morning.

And in any of these cases, what you need to do, is take it upon yourself to hit that person hard with the truth. Perhaps they are being over-sensitive but you understand why, or maybe they’ve taken on too much and they’re getting stressed out, or perhaps their view of the world is being hampered by the poor performance of some rugby team they care an unhealthy amount about. Whatever it is, you’ve got to break it to them; it’s your duty.

And after that come the niceties, the compliments, the reminders that they are in fact a super swell person who you have gone so far as to marry/move in with/go on a date with more than once. You get to tell them that they are actually a very decent/reasonable/rational human really, they just needed to be reminded. It’s really a very nice part of the job.

In fact, it’s one of the best parts – not just in marriage, but in other relationships too, with friends or family – it’s a privilege to know somebody well enough to be able to have a conversation that makes them feel better, to reassure them that they’re not doing life wrong. Because sometimes it’s just very hard to tell, isn’t it.

This is just another part of relationships that nobody warns you about and that nobody sees, but that actually quietly defines you.

Thankfully the same cannot be said for discussions about Sock Mountain.

2014 in review: 21 useful things I learnt this year

5 Comments

IMG_20141228_150508-1024x1024There’s a reason every single person on the internet is busy writing a 2014 round-up: because we all love to have an annual look-back on our lives.

We don’t make enough time for it. The most we allocate is a few seconds each day to realising that the tweet we wrote that morning wasn’t funny, or to regretting wearing that pair of tights that always falls down. It’s not really reflection, just instant short term regret.

So at this time of year when we’ve nothing to do but sit down, eat and watch Some Mothers Do ‘Ave ‘Em re-runs, we have the perfect opportunity to take a little glance over our shoulder at the year gone by and think about what we’ve done – for better or for worse.

I’m currently mentally preparing a strong list of resolutions (another ground-breaking blog post in the making) but I can’t do that until I’ve benefited from a little retrospect. So here it is – a few of the things I learnt in 2014. I hope you’ll find at least one or two of them useful.

1. Rhubarb is a delicious addition to a cocktail. ‘Tis super sweet, mind, but glorious if you don’t prioritise the health of your teeth. 2. There’s no better tune to dance around your house to than Does Your Mother Know by ABBA. Try it, I’m not wrong. 3. Japan is a marvellous place. The people are oh so friendly, the food is lush, and you don’t have to be a child to get into Disneyland Tokyo, thank GOODNESS. The only downside is that when your holiday’s over, you have to go home. 4. Kitchen refurbishments take longer than you think. It turns out that the novelty of ordering take-away can wear off. Who knew? 5. Writing in the morning is the nuts. You’re surprisingly awake and productive after a big night’s sleep. Well, DUH.

 IMG_54056. Good friends really come into their own in times of crisis. And for that I will always be grateful. 7. Some prawns contain histamine, which explains why I often get an itchy nose after a stir fry. I KNOW RIGHT. 8. Even highly successful, famous people feel like a bit of a dick sometimes, as I found out at this year’s Mumsnet Blogfest. So either suck it up or quit forever. That thick skin will keep you lovely and warm during the winter months. 9. Don’t forget to celebrate your achievements. I bought two pairs of boots with my first freelance monies and sing “These boots were paid by working” to the tune of “These boots were made for walking” whenever I wear them (even though it doesn’t really make sense). I didn’t get paid for being good at puns, OK? 10. Don’t be afraid to admit when you are struggling. There will always be somebody out there who can help you. Always.

IMG_3377

11. Homemade fish and chips are delicious. However, deep frying them in a pan of oil without the use of a thermometer will set the smoke alarm off at least three times and make my husband – the most patient man in the world – completely lose his sh*t. 12. Tina Fey’s autobiography ‘Bossypants’ is the greatest thing that has ever happened. Seriously. 13. You’re never too old to just start crying because you’re too tired. All you can hope for is the wisdom to know that that is what’s the matter with you. Either that or a very patient spouse/friend who will work it out for you. 14. Mindfulness is the answer to so many of the world’s problems. If you haven’t tried it yet then I strongly recommend that you do. It’s hard work but wonderfully calming. 15. Drinking a whole bottle of champagne before cooking chicken satay will add an extra element of danger to proceedings (and possibly a little more chilli than you’d originally planned.) 16. Dyeing your hair a completely different colour is like putting on an invisibility cloak. My closest family and friends still struggle to recognise me. Shall I use my new powers for good or for evil?

IMG_20141011_212521-1024x1024


17. Avocado is the greatest thing ever to happen to breakfast. That may be the most middle class thing I’ve ever said and I stand by it. 18. If you want to run a successful blog, you need a plan. It may have been the hottest weekend of the year but the time I spent at Blogcademy was unbelievably useful. Being a grown-up means being delighted to pay money to learn loads more stuff. 19. No longer reading The Metro and cutting down on my use of Facebook are two of the best decisions I have made all year. I now read more books and feel less bad about my social life. I believe they call that WINNING. 20. Never underestimate the power of the gift of a bag of sweets. Pure joy costs no more than £1.49. 21. Marriage is about holding each other up – sometimes physically – against whichever troubles, stresses or incompetent kitchen fitters happen to come your way. You must always be ready to put your arms out.

And you?

School friends: The ones that didn’t get away

2 Comments
IMG_20141130_192713-1024x1024

No-one is better at keeping you grounded than your school friends.

There aren’t many people who will take one look at your passport photograph and say: “No offence, but you look like a smackhead” or who will stand and laugh hard in your face whilst recounting (for the 58th time) the time you drank nine happy hour cocktails and danced alone on stage to The Jackson 5. (In my defence, it was my birthday and I looked excellent). But this is all in a day’s work for a friend who has known you since you were 13 and prided yourself on being able to recite every single word to Boyzone’s Love Me For A Reason (I can also do the official dance moves, if you’re interested).

It isn’t possible to keep hold of all your friends when you leave school, what with university and jobs and having to take charge of the weekly shop, so the ones you do manage to keep are all the more special. They’re the friends who have known you the longest, who have seen you through every bad haircut, fashion faux pas and unfortunate crush and, if you’re lucky, they’ll only mention each of them three or four times every time you see them. They’re kind like that.

All of a sudden your friendship shifts to suit your new adult lives. You’re no longer in the market for lunch break one-upmanship about who’s doing best in maths or getting off with who or how very dare she buy the same hot pants as you. Now we’re talking jobs and careers and – BLIMEY – marriage and babies, but we still throw in the odd anecdote from our younger days to stop us taking ourselves too seriously. (The one about the time I over-gesticulated and hurled my bracelet into the face of a stranger is one of my favourites, though I still don’t think she’d find it funny.)

These meet-ups are evidence that a joke can indeed remain funny forever. I have one friend with whom I have never managed to get through a drink or a meal without mentioning the time we went to see Shrek at the cinema and an unknown boy burped SO loud in my face that she and I were left helpless with laughter. I’m 29 now and it remains one of the funniest things that has ever happened to me, partly because surprise, aggressive burping is always amusing, but also because that moment really summed up my relationship with boys at that time – embarrassing, undignified, and often just a lot of hot air.

But aside from all the giggles and nostalgic chit chat about school trips and hair mascara and the time I thought blue and yellow braces would look good on my teeth (they didn’t), there’s also a lot of genuine love between us too. We’ve had the privilege of watching each other grow up, and take quiet pride in seeing one another slowly managing to get to where we want to be. I hope we never stop meeting and drinking and laughing, and I hope the stories never stop – yes, even the one about my ill-advised fuchsia pink pedal pusher phase – because they remind us of just how far we’ve come.

And if perhaps one of them would be so kind as to remind me of the above mentioned, nine cocktails/solo dancing story in time for my 30th birthday next year I’d really appreciate it. With my low capacity for alcohol these days, I’m more likely to pass out on the stage than dance on it, and I’m sure that, if that does happen, this lot are never going to let me hear the end of it.

Anniversaries: The more the merrier

Leave a Comment
IMG_20140908_161915-1024x1024

Anniversaries are good for you. I’m pretty sure any doctor would back me up.

Remembering the date on which nice things happened and taking the time to look back and say “Well, wasn’t that a good day” and having a cake or a pork pie to celebrate doesn’t do anybody any harm.

The only problem is that for those of us whose brains are unnecessarily good at remembering the exact date on which things take place, the anniversary calendar can get a little over populated.

I get that celebrating nine years since my husband and I first discovered that we both enjoy Jaffa Cakes does seem a little unnecessary but who doesn’t love an excuse to binge on a box of those? And why is it that Clinton Cards doesn’t sell “Happy first trip to IKEA together-aversary” cards? Now I come to think of it, it’s probably because most couples don’t make it past that point…

On Monday of last week, it was nine years since my husband said “Erm, so are you my girlfriend then?” and I – unaware that this would be the very (first and) last time that these words would ever be said to me replied “I guess I am”. A momentous occasion, I’m sure you’ll agree.

But now that we’re married and have a grown up wedding anniversary to celebrate (which was only a few weeks ago) this date has been removed from the ‘important dates on which we must leave the house and say nice things to each other’ calendar. I feel robbed.

But I get why it’s gone. Two anniversaries in a month is a lot of admin for one couple to take on, a lot of restaurants to book, a lot of cards to write, a lot of champagne infused burps to hold back. So we’ve agreed to go all out each year for the wedding one, and just to high five to mark the other. (And if I want to open a bottle of bubbles just for me then that’s my decision *stumbles*).

People’s memories work in different ways. Some remember things by smell or by taste or by the music that was playing, and I remember things according to the precise date and time at which they happened. It’s just unfortunate that my way makes me sound like a stalker.

And it’s not just limited to relationship stuff either. I happen to know that this week marks ten years since my now best friend and I became chums. I can’t send her a card for that because she will think that I am insane. Similarly, it is a fact that on my birthday it was 29 years since I first met my mum. Why am I the only one who gets a present? She really did put all the effort into the occasion.

And let’s not forget that the more anniversaries you celebrate the more excuses you have to eat and drink whatever you like. Fancy throwing down a full bag of Percy Pigs? Well, why not, it is two years since you and your boyfriend realised that they are far superior to Fizzy Pig Tails. Feel the need to consume an entire block of Cadbury’s Fruit and Nut? Well, with it being six months since you had to explain to your other half that although, yes, the sofa is brown leather, melted chocolate does still show up on it, I’d say you deserve it.

Life is tiring and complicated and involves far too few holidays for my liking, so we’ve got to find fun wherever we can. So if there happens to be a date in the diary that gives you an excuse to send a card or an email or affectionate thumbs up to somebody you’re pleased to know then I say take it.

You’re basically giving another human being an excuse to go out and buy themselves a cake and how could that ever be a bad thing?

29 things I’ve learnt in 29 years

2 Comments
 IMG_3460

I found a grey hair.

That’s weird, I thought, I’ve never had any blond hairs grow from the root before, I’ve always had to dye those in. It’s a summertime miracle!

But then I looked closer and saw that both the light and my deluded brain were playing tricks on me. The strand before me was quite clearly grey.

And it’s not all that surprising. On Friday of this week I will turn 29. That big serious age that comes right before 30 when I’ll have to stop spending Friday nights chomping through cheese puffs and start acting like a proper person.

But thankfully my years have not been completely wasted; I have at least learnt a thing or two. So this week, with my birthday on the horizon and the dawn of my thirtieth year just around the corner (WHY GOD, WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?), I thought I would share the top 29 of those things – one for every year of my existence. Feel free to thank me for my wisdom on Friday with cake.

1. Pants-wise, there comes a time when only full knickers will do. That time is now.

2. A house without cheese is like a purse the day before payday. Empty and hopeless.

3. One should buy the amount of chocolate one intends to eat. You will not save the other half until tomorrow, you are lying.

4. If a man cannot find you attractive in a pair of pyjamas, your relationship is not going to last. He’ll see you in those bad boys much more frequently than anything else.

5. Aggressive people are always much crosser with themselves than they are with you. (Though mentioning that will probably not help.)

6. Pumps are not shoes, they are outdoor slippers. If it hasn’t got a strap and a solid sole, I’m not wearing it.

7. Mascara is the greatest invention of all time.

8. …closely followed by dry shampoo.

9. My mum was right; you really shouldn’t walk around whilst cleaning your teeth. That sh*t gets everywhere.

10. She also said that everything will look better in the morning. And she was right. (Except my face. After six hours crushed into a pillow, that looks MUCH worse. See points 7 and 8 for the solution).

11. The person who gets out of the shower or bath always feels much better than the person who got in (unless the hot water is broken. A quick heat test beforehand will help avoid disappointment).

12. You have rarely truly lost a pair of earrings; they are just waiting for you in a handbag you’ve forgotten you own.

13. Life is too short to drink ‘from concentrate’ fruit juice.

14. Under no circumstances should a working person be expected to go out on a Monday night.

15. Your relationship with your other half should be the easiest of all. The rest of the world will bring you plenty of drama to help keep things interesting.

16. Two-ply tissues aren’t worth anybody’s time or money.

17. It is never worth spending lots of money on an umbrella, sunglasses or gloves. It’s like they want you to lose them.

18. However much a pair of heels are hurting your feet, don’t take them off until you get home. Putting them back on again to travel will bring more pain than any human should endure.

19. If you want an adult to sleep anywhere other than their own bed, you need to make it seriously worth their while.

20. If you’re lucky, your siblings will become friends who just happen to have the same parents as you (for whom the memory of your older brother pushing a poached egg into your face will always remain embarrassingly clear).

21. Regardless of the circumstances, from the moment a woman decides that she’s going to bed, she is always at least half an hour from laying her head on the pillow.

22. If you have to chase somebody just to keep them in your life, it’s probably not worth the effort. (Unless that person is driving an ice cream van in which case RUN!)

23. There is no greater feeling on earth than getting into a freshly changed bed with newly shaved legs. (Whether they’re your own or someone else’s.)

24. If you notice that a person has food or pen on their face, it is your duty to let them know.

25. Cooking rice is 100% easier if you read the instructions on the packet. Who knew?

26. The original Percy Pig sweet will always be the strongest of the franchise. The rest of his pals can jog/trot on.

27. If you can leave a job having made just two good friends, that is a major achievement.

28. A sandwich served without crisps is like a day without sunshine. Just a massive waste of everybody’s time.

29. There is never just one grey hair.

When dear friends get married: Why I always cry at weddings

Leave a Comment

When you get to our age, you find yourself going to a lot of weddings.

It’s how people in their late twenties/early thirties spend their weekends – we go to weddings, we go to hen and stag dos and we have conversations about how much worse our hangovers are now that we’re old. We’re a lot of fun.

And it’s very easy to feel cynical about all these nuptials. Weddings are tiring, our feet weren’t made for wearing high heels for 12 hours straight (particularly the boys), and our stomachs takes days to forgive us for eating our meals at funny times of the day.

But that stuff is all just logistics. The real reason we go to weddings is well worth getting a few blisters and a confused tummy for.

I’ve seen lots of my friends get married now. Real, dear, close chums with whom I’ve shared various periods of my life – school, university, jobs, that time when I learnt that I don’t get on with Sambuca… We’ve grown up together, one way or another, so when one of us gets married, it feels like a big day for all of us.

There’s not much else that we get to see our friends commit to that is so significant (though the pals who witnessed my ‘let’s wear nothing but fuchsia pink!’ phase might feel differently) so being there to witness it is a real privilege.

And for me, seeing a close friend walk down the aisle to marry the person with whom they’ll spend the rest of their life is enough to bring not just a tear but a flood to my eyes. While lots of people express joy through smiling, I do it by turning my face into a waterfall. I’ve tried not to do it, to think of all the make-up I piled on just moments before and hold it together, but I fail every time.

And if my friend getting married cries too then I might as well just call it a day and go to bed – I’m such a mess by the time they’re pronounced husband and wife that you’d think I’d been watching The Notebook. Whilst newborn babies manage to behave beautifully throughout the ceremony, it is me who needs to be carried out and wiped down.

But I actually think it’s a good thing. However you express pride in your friends, whether through tears, grins or high fives, it’s good to show it. One of the best things about being an adult is being able to look back on the times we’ve spent with our chums – the nights in eating cheese, the nights out dancing to cheese – and feel utterly amazed that somehow we’re suddenly grown up enough to do something as serious as getting married. The fact that one of our parents hasn’t stepped in to tell us to stop showing off and calm down still amazes me.

For all the panda eyes and weeping and resulting dehydration, weddings remain one of the best ways to spend a weekend. Seeing a friend looking happier than they ever have before (with the small exception of that time the DJ played a Five vs Blue megamix on their hen do – good luck beating that, hubby!) is just about as good as it gets.

And whether you’re likely to cry during the ceremony or not, I still recommend taking a packet of tissues with you to a wedding. At our age, the hangover you get the following morning is enough to make anybody sob.

Friendship: It’s about quality not quantity

Leave a Comment

IMG_6367It’s a strange moment when you suddenly stop worrying about whether you’ve got enough friends.

For years it’s a genuine concern. If you have a party, will anybody come? Do you get enough text messages that aren’t just from your mum or Domino’s Pizza? And exactly how many non-family birthday cards did you get last year?

At school, it always felt like size mattered in the chums department. The bigger the group you were a part of, the smaller the chance that you would find yourself sitting alone in French with nobody to tell that you’d been “à la piscine” at the weekend.

And at university a heavy group of pals meant people to sit sleepy-eyed with in lectures, to consume large sandwiches with at obscure times of the day, and to go out with of a Wednesday evening, rather than sitting at home doing a glossy magazine quiz about which FRIENDS character best reflects your personality. You already knew the answer to that anyway. (Gunther.)

And that’s not to undermine those friendships – they’re the making of some of the best days of your life – it’s just impossible to keep up with that volume of people once real life starts getting in the way.

The combination of going to work, eating meals, sorting through your post, washing clothes, filling the dishwasher, entering online competitions, watching The Magaluf Weekender, and actually going to sleep for more than four hours a night dominates most of the week. It’s a wonder you can keep on top of what’s going on with you, let alone anybody else.

So if you do manage to spend time with another human being – aside from your colleagues, the dude at the sorting office and your grocery delivery man – it’s because you really want to.

And now that you’re an adult, though you don’t demand much of that person in terms of time, you do when it comes to quality of friendship.

If I meet up with a pal and I ask how they are, I’m looking for a proper answer. I’m not looking for a fluffy “Yeah sure everything’s fine – shall we get the chicken?” response (although my answer will of course always be Yes), I want: “Right, strap in for a full-blown analysis of my life”. If I didn’t care then I wouldn’t have blocked out my Thursday night – you do know that Eastenders is shown on Thursday evenings, right?

And of course it works both ways. I want to know the ins and outs of what’s happening with you and then you, dear friend, are going to get the precise same from me. I have a husband who doesn’t seem to understand the meaning of “Please unplug the iron”, a fringe I can’t control, and a marshmallow habit I fear is getting out of hand – who else am I going to talk to about this sh*t?

A good catch up with a good friend is better for your soul than any drug, massage or – dare I say it – confectionery item money can buy. And the truth is that, at this age, most of us would rather spend our time with the buddies we know we can really chew the fat with – metaphorical and literal (and ideally BBQ sauce-covered) – than spend an evening with 50 people we hardly know just so that Facebook can see how popular we are.

Because those are the chums that are really worth giving up a night in front of the telly for. And that, my friend, is no small compliment.