I, I think I’ve got boring

I think I’ve turned into the woman I dreaded when I was 19.

Cause I, I dream about bin day

Is it the green bin black bin don’t forget the food waste it’ll smell

I love ikea, zoflora, Kirsty and Phil, binging netflix sort of chill without the sex

(and if we do) I don’t take off my specs (or my socks)

And I, feel old need a spa day

Spend my time working, mothering, scrolling, pooping while kids count my plops

And I, I really am grumpy

Turns out that’s what happens when you get pissed off with emotional labour

Cellulite spreads down my legs, my arms, arse, elbows, knees and toes, even my ears

My fabulous fat

But it’s spread to my twat - now that’s just not fair

And oh would life be better if I went to nightclubs when I prefer pubs?

Or went on adventures camping in Australia? But I hate tents and spiders

Had sex with a lifeguard? ‘Hey would shave your vag?’

NO! And I’d end up with crabs

I’d rather eat cheese on my couch

Oh god I’m boring old grumpy and fat

Boring old grumpy and fat...

I, I’m so constipated

I talk about fibre, bowel movements, anal comfort, hemhoiroids, piles

And I, I love peoples kitchens

Choices of tiles, farrow and ball paint, storage turns me on - where did you get your taps?

Saturday nights used to binge drink til 4 eat kebabs vomit shag someone fine

Well beer goggles fine

But now I’m in bed by nine

And oh would life be better if I joined a gym but I fucking hate gyms

Or joined adult friend finder fancied a threesome but I’m so goddamn tired and one cock is enough, enough for my muff.

Let’s not overstuff

I’d rather masturbate alone

Thank god I’m boring old grumpy and fat

Boring old grumpy and fat