things i don't give a shit about

plus a surprise twist

I'm not a fan of those 'Things You Only Know In Your Thirties' articles, because they’re all the same. You gain more confidence. You become better at setting boundaries. You take less shit, amiright?

Am are not right. I'm 36 [redacted]s old (years or months? You'll never know) and recently cried during a job I said yes to, due to a lack of boundaries with a particular person who then gave me shit the entire day. After the job, when I realised what had happened, I empowered myself by sending this person a thank you card because I have the spine of a mollusc's bouncy castle.

However, I do know what I don't give a shit about anymore. That’s something that happened in my thirties. You might be reading this in your twents (this is an abbreviations of ‘twenties’), believing yourself a strongly opinionated person, but in ten years time you’ll realise everything you thought you cared or did not care about was based on something sarcastic a woman with a chic haircut once said at a party.

To be clear: ‘things I do not give a shit about’ is not to be confused with ‘things I dislike’. This is not a negative list. These are just things that could vanish off the face of the planet, and I wouldn't mind. I invite you to consider your own; it’s quite freeing. I also invite you to ask other people about theirs; it’s a much better opening gambit at a party than ‘so what do you do for a living’. Just be careful how you phrase the question if you happen to be a woman with a chic haircut.

Perfume

I wear it sometimes. J’Adore Dior, bought as a gift, and a Philosophy one, stolen from the table of an awards ceremony to which I was a plus one. I wear it when I see it on the shelf and think ‘This is the sort of event people wear perfume to’. A book launch, for example. A dinner with someone’s parents. I wouldn’t wear it to go bowling, or at a garden centre. Maybe that’s to do with wasps, although I have no idea why I wouldn’t wear it to the garden centre (this is a joke implying there are lots of wasps at bowling alleys). Anyway, they both smell the same despite being apparently different. All perfume smells like perfume. Some smells like flowery perfume, others smell like other types of flowery perfume. Sometimes I'll think 'I haven't smelt that type of flowery perfume before' but am incapable of following this thought with an opinion. The only time I found myself able to form an opinion was, aged 12, after making rose perfume by soaking petals in water. It became clear halfway through the day that the rose petals were rotten so I smelt like fetid mulch.

Starters

Imagine if a foodstuff either ever-so-slightly ruins your appetite or ever-so-uncomfortably increases it? No.

Trainer socks

They’re called something else now, aren’t they? Foot skins. Slips? Whatever. I wear socks that are the length of socks (over the ankle, obviously) and will never go out of my way to a) find out what trainer socks are called b) find out what shoe you're meant to wear them with and c) buy them.

Watches

Tried watches a few times, but just spend the whole time forgetting I was wearing one before checking my phone lockscreen like normal. Couldn’t tell you what a good watch was. Don’t know what the styles are. At a push I’m thinking: silver? The digital one that’s all black and plasticky? Gold? Wood? Honestly think I’ve never noticed a watch in my life - even watch adverts where a famous actor points at his watch and says 'it's TIME to look at my watch'. My eyes slide over it, or my brain fills the space where the watch is with more arm skin.

GIFs

Have never found a gif funny or annoying or anything, really. At most I think ‘Ah yes, an image that is relevant to the emotion you are conveying’.

Putting locations in my iCal

You can simply write the location in the space for the event name. GIG BRISTOL. MEETING ROOM 4. DRINK W [NAME OF FRIEND] AT OLD QUEENS LEG PUB. Using the location box is only acceptable when updating a shared work calendar, not for social occasions; a drink with a mate should never involve formatting. It also requires two more taps of my finger that I simply can’t be arsed to contemplate. See also: inputting the end time. When I shared my calendar with my partner, the concept of ‘STEVIE ZOOM’ being the same length as ‘STEVIE GOES TO VENICE’ drove him wild (and not with desire) but what time a dinner may or may not finish is frankly none of my business? Who am I to signify an end, before it's even begun? And with regards me going to Venice, I inputted the flight back in one square, labelled FLIGHT 14.00-16.30. All the information you need. I’m not scrolling through various times like a nostalgic poet. And I’m not using the all-day toggle, either. While I love a toggle just as much as the next person, nobody registers the bit at the top of the screen where the all-day appointment goes. Genuinely. According to research (me) nobody (also me) has ever actually seen it.

Plates

I dunno I’ve never looked at a plate and thought anything other than ‘plate’. Weirdly, don’t feel like this about bowls. I quite like those shallow pasta bowls and, for cereal, the heartier the convex, the better.

Latin

I don’t care at all about whether someone knows Latin or not. I don’t find it impressive or unimpressive, it’s just faintly bizarre that anyone who isn’t an academic would know it, let alone start speaking it during house warming parties. Even if the party is in North London, where it is now the dominant language. When anyone responds in Latin and you ask them to translate it, the thing they’ve said always only partially relates and sort of sounds like they’ve had a stroke.

Flowers

They’re just going to die, right? They’re just going to sit in the corner of your house, smell increasingly like I did aged 12 (see: perfume) and die.

Competitive pastimes

I’m talking gaming, I’m talking sport, I’m talking any hobby requiring me to pass or fail. Mainly because there's enough of that in everyday life already. After a day of not getting my 10,000 steps in, choosing a train that turned out to be slightly slower than the other option and getting rejected from an audition, I’m not interested in then getting shot by a gnome (I don’t know much about videogaming, sorry).

Bookmarks

Stick a hair band in it. Or a trainer sock.

OK so, I saved this in my drafts because I couldn’t think of a fun way to end it, and then when I stood up I HAD BEEN SAT ON MY PARTNER’S WATCH THE ENTIRE TIME. WHAT A SURPRISE TWIST. I REALLY CAN’T SEE WATCHES. Might as well put this substack to bed because I’ll never be able to beat this.

Shame I couldn’t get a picture with the watch in, but this is the part of the sofa where it was lying.

If you found this funny, you can come see me live if you like. But also it’s fine if not, that’s not the point of this.