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You’ve Got Some Explaining To Do…

“You” being “me”, obvs…

I feel I should try and explain my re-appearance to the blogging world. Not for justification, just so you don’t think I’m gonna take off again – flaky, fickle so-and-so that I am (don’t worry, I’ve grounded myself for a week).

I’ve already briefly explained this, but when I started writing the blog last year, it was initially a way for me to personally track my own journey as I tried to become a better diabetic. (Self-indulgent or what, but isn’t that a blog by its very nature?) The journey being that I gave up carbs, and I read stuff. Lots of stuff.Not Jane Eyre, or Harry Potter, but diabetes-related stuff. It helped me immeasurably to know that there were thousands of others out there who, like me, had been grappling with this killjoy of a condition for decades and who, like me, still found it difficult to master.

So along I came, with my widgets an’ all, and I wrote. I rambled, and I wrote some more. Then some people started to read it. People I’d never met before, people who didn’t owe me anything, but they liked what I was writing (having read them all back over the past couple of days, I’m still slightly baffled as to why!). Now, call me stupid, self-deprecating or whatever, but I honestly didn’t think people in the actual world (as opposed to the one in my head that doesn’t resemble real life in any way, shape or form) would give a shit about my diabetes-laced accident-prone, regularly embarrassing day-to-day existence. And the fact that actual people did overwhelmed me. Hugely.

So, yes, I wasn’t prepared and thus ran for my life. A boy got in the way too, may I add. I know, I know, you were there first, loyal and unassuming, but getting caught up in luuurrrrve was/is a rather fabulous notion.

So my crazy life just got crazier, and my poor, innocent blog got left behind. Cue tears, violins, and angry “deserter” comments. I’m sorrrrry. I always loved you, I really did. It wasn’t you, it was me.

BUT…I finally get to the point…

I’m here now, and you see, I’m back because I’m about to go super-size. That’s right, I’ve hit the capital. I’m freelancing in London town, having left Hull and the world of radio journalism behind. I’ve upgraded to TV, dahhhling, as a researcher no less. Playtime in Hull is one thing, but in the big bad city? YFT1 just got serious. If there was ever a concoction for diabetes-related unfortunate incidents, being 20something, in London, in the (not so) glamorous world of television is probably it. Not to mention meeting a good handful of new people each and every day. Cue the inevitable yet no less annoying “do I tell them, do I not tell them” dilemma. Sometimes I think I should just wander around with my insulin injection strapped to my forehead, wearing a sandwich board saying “I have Type 1 Diabetes. I’m not shooting up in the middle of the office”. If nothing else, it would solve the problem of choosing the day’s outfit. I’m not quite cool enough for London. And here’s a photo to prove it (no, I don’t know what I’m doing, and neither does that dude on the bike).

So if you were vaguely amused/intrigued/baffled by my musings before, I’d like to think it’s worth sticking around. I see it as the equivalent of a trip across the pond – everything’s familiar, but it’s bigger, brighter and thus hopefully mildly entertaining in a “novelty” kinda way. I’m still blonde, I’m still an idiot, and I’m still inappropriate. Good diabetes control is one thing, but those three attributes, I CAN guarantee.



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