My Pb’s Porridge

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It sucks being an adult. Work on that proposal! Apply for that job! Find a boyfriend! Get married! Responsibilities everywhere. In the midst of completing the endless task list, I fall into little periods of hiatus which I call my occasional episodes of quarter life crisis, worsened by the mood swing like London’s weather. One moment I’m Mother Teresa on a mission to change the world and the next I’m a bed hugger binging on junk food and Friends for the nth time, mouthing Chandler’s jokes as he speaks. When that happens I go with the flow and allow myself to reach the bottom of the pit, at which point I finally get out of bed and make my Pb’s porridge. Why such a name? Read on. Continue reading

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