I recently professed my love for my new home of London. But even the city of your dreams will have its shortcomings, and London has one filthy habit I can no longer ignore. Every time I pretend not to notice it, the sh*t hits the fan. Or rather the shoe. You see - and I say this with the utmost respect - London is full of sh*t. Dog sh*t, to be precise.
It was hard, very hard, but it's true that time heals. When we go through something like that, we think it's the end of the world. As time goes by and we reflect on our experience, we start to put things into perspective and realize important things, the things that truly matter. It was the same for me.
I was particularly affronted to be greeted with this monstrosity of an advert on my daily commute this morning. Funny, I thought I was just minding my own business in my usual spot on the London Underground Jubilee line platform. But NOPE, actually I should be PERMANENTLY stressing over whether my body is "beach ready". Duh.