If we're going to be pals,  I feel like there are somethings I should tell you.

I forget to floss. I never check my bank balance. I don’t have home insurance (shhh) and I spend more money on shoes than I do on food. I drink too much wine, only run in my head and have no idea what an ISA is.

I am, by nature, a lazy person. It's not an attractive quality. I also have an incredibly short attention span.

Combine the two and suddenly doing a load of laundry becomes quite an achievement. Hanging it out? We're talking major league. 

And like all lazy people,  I am completely, hopelessly in love with the idea of Doing Woman. 

As I lie in bed on a Saturday morning, my head is in the Tate.

While I'm slobbing out on the sofa in my pjs, imaginary me is browsing vintage jumble sales in a fabulously thrown together, yet completely on trend outfit.

Well, you get the picture. 

For the past few years I have had a nagging suspicion that despite being in my mid... erm late twenties, I am not in fact, a grownup. In the slightest.

I’ve got the framework. A boyfriend. A house. And the best pals a girl could want.

All of which makes me very lucky.

But I can’t help but think I could be doing this little old life a lot more justice.

So I’m trying to grow up.

This is a blog about it.