Like seriously, I think I’ve got a problem.
I think I’ve got the starts of an addictive personality. And I think I need to talk about it.
Look, don’t freak out just yet. It’s not like I’m smacking up in the corner or selling my Nan for a bottle of wine. But I’ve been doing some things recently that have made me think about things I’ve been doing for years that make me think I’ve got the tendency to get addicted.
My vices are pretty tame when I lay them out. In fact, they make me sound like an absolute loser. But sod it, they’re vices all the same.
For instance, I seem practically incapable of watching one episode of a programme at any given time. If I can’t watch 4 or 5 on the spin I just don’t want to know about it. One will never be enough to feed my habit and unless I’m waking up, glasses askew, at 4 in the morning with Netflix burning through my bed sheets, I’m not interested.
I’ve got a similar relationship with bread. Don’t laugh. It’s true. In fact, I went for a good 6 months of not buying a loaf because I can’t be trusted. One slice of toast turns into two and before you know it, I’m knee deep in Lurpack and I’ve decided to replace dinner with eating a loaf of Hovis. Most humane people are satisfied with one. Oh No. Not me. People worry about crack whores. I’m a carb whore. And I’m one crust away from a set of fishnet stockings, mate.
The problems doesn’t just stay at a 50/50 loaf and 4 episodes of House of Cards. Hell no. Tell you the other thing I’m addicted to.
Yep. Like my morning coffee. Don’t purchase. Feel odd. Must purchase. Feel sane. Biscuits. Can’t just eat one. Need a packet. Right now. Albums. If I discover one I’ve not listened to in a while, I won’t listen once to reminisce. I’ll have it on loop for days until I hate it again (probably why I stopped listening in the first place). The gym. If I’m not there regularly, I might has well be in the queue for The Priory. I feel weird and not like myself. Biting my nails. Don’t bite them for months, bite one and they’ve all got to come off. Shit I think I got addicted to checking Tinder for a while. Lists. Sometimes I rewrite the same list cos I can’t get enough of writing lists. I mean come on I’ve got a blog based on them. Lighting candles is the other one. One Yankee candle and I’m all like “I can’t rest without my vanilla undertones”. Prat.
If I’m not careful I can imagine Instagram will become a massive issue. Like hours could be lost to pictures of people I don’t give two shits about if I don’t reign it in. As will getting my nails done cos I got them done once for an Xmas party and now I’m all like “can’t live without”. Halloumi is on the risk list cos god damn I can’t get enough of that squeaky cheese. Buying new bed linen is another area of concern.
I’ve managed to get keep booze to a controllable level. Although when I’m out, I really mean it. Maybe I’m one happy hour away from a park bench and a 4 pack of Red Stripe? Who knows at this bloody rate!
Smoking is next to nothing compared to what it was but again if I have one I just want to open a fag factory.
There’s literally no in between for me.
Thank god I’ve never touched anything hard. Can you imagine.
Cos if iPlayer habits are anything to go by I’d be in a squat by June.