I feel like there’s probably no-one better to summarize my life than a collection of pretty, fluffy cats. I mean, the entire cat community know me pretty well after all.
Let’s start at the beginning.
Oh look, here’s me every single morning that my alarm goes off. I look pretty, right?
And here’s how I look when I read aloud my Twitter bio to myself (everyone does this once a day, right?) You’re a freelance journalist? Oh well, hello….
After I’ve done that, i’ll probably attempt to sleep on the tube to work. That, or feel warm rushes of joy in my heart that there are children on the tube that I haven’t offered my seat to. Hannah 1, Children 0. HA.
THERE’S A MADDIE MCCANN CASE UPDATE ON THE MAIL ONLINE?! SAY WHAAAAT?!
*Googles more unsolved child murder cases whilst looking busy at work*
Oh, here I am finishing off other people’s lunches. My bad. That’ll probably be the reason for the fat belly, fat thighs and fat back. But NO extra chin. I win.
Oh, another hater on my blog. Sad face. *Cries and eats McDonalds on own*
Here’s me when I go to the gym. Oh wait no, I skipped the gym for Teen Mom 3. Priorities.
Here’s me and Rudey at bedtime. She likes to lick my face. I like it. I’m not ashamed.
Oh, oh, oh, here’s me trying to make my boyfriend pay attention to me. Put down your phone full of football updates and stroke my hair, I’m more important.
And this is how I feel when I walk into Whole Foods in High Street Ken. Woah.
CATS ARE THE BEST THINGS IN THE ENTIRE BLOODY WORLD.