Everything Changes But You

The last, say, 15 years of my life have been fairly eventful. To be fair, most people could say the same about themselves between the ages of 16 and 31; it's rarely a boring time. In my own particular case, I've had 14 homes, 10 jobs, two husbands, six hospital admissions, three family bereavements, I've visited 20 new countries, and studied at four universities.

And there's a lot more change in the offing; if everything goes to plan the next six months will see us relocate to Bristol and *gulp* have a baby. So yeah, my life is currently one big festival of trying not to freak out about change.

Despite all of this, or perhaps because of it, I find it comforting to remember the things that haven't changed. So, some things I still have in common with 15 year old Liz:

I love:
Salt and vinegar crisps.


Fruit. All the fruit.
Brushed cotton duvet covers/soft blankets/duvets in general (nothing can hurt you under the duvet, right?)


Camping.
Reading.
Laughing until I can't breathe (usually at animals/people falling over).


Dancing like an idiot.
Making lists (case in point).
Sitcoms.
Christmas.



I hate:
Branston Pickle.
Arrogant men (I guess it was boys back then).


I need:
Validation (although I can sometimes do this for myself now).
At least eight hours sleep a night.


I can:
Sleep through pretty much anything (thunderstorms, earthquakes).
Do some excellent, if slightly niche, impressions (a frozen chicken, Deirdre Barlow, a monkey).


Drop things, spill things, lose things and trip over things with almost unbelievable regularity.



If you need me I'll be in my duvet eating crisps and pretending everything's staying exactly the same and it's not scary at all. Yep. It's all gonna be fine. Completely fine. 


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