From An Evolutionary Point Of View, Most

Maybe I've Just Read Too Many Novels. In Novels, Alcoholics Are Always Attractive And Fuuny And Charming And Complex, Like Sebastian Flyte Or Abe North In Tender In The Night, And They're Drinking Because Of A Deep, Unquenchable Sadness Of The Soul, Or The Terrible Legacy Of The First World War, Whereas I Just Get Drunk Because I'm Thirsty, And I Like The Taste Of Lager.

She Shouldn't Speak Her Thoughts; Nothing Good Ever Came Of Speaking Your Thoughts.

My 20s Was A Sea Of Worry. I Worried About Benefit Forms, About Being Thrown Out Of My Flat. I Never Went On Holiday Because I Thought: 'what If An Audition Comes Up?' I Was A Nervous Wreck.

Letters, Like Compilation Tapes, Were Really Vehicles For Unexpressed Emotions And She Was Clearly Putting Far Too Much Time And Energy Into Them.

Cuddling Was For Great Aunts And Teddy Bears. Cuddling Gave Him Cramp.