As soon as I wake up, I check my Instagram. There’s been a huge reaction to the photo of my dad’s bag. It’s only when I look at it for the first time in a while that I realize how cool it looks in a Hudson filter.
There are lots of comments.
OMG! Has your dad been to Chile? I have always wanted to go there! It sounds incredible!
(I’ve always wanted to go, too. I love the way it’s very long but looks about three miles wide.)
Totally understand your feelings.
(Thank you, RainbowGirlUnicornFeelings!)
Stop going on about your dad. Mine left when I was 3. I haven’t seen him since.
(Why do people follow me if I get on their nerves?!)
I wish my dad would leave. That would be good.
(This is a reply to the comment above.)
What a really cruel thing to say.
(Now they are arguing.)
You have no idea of my family!
(No, we don’t. How could we?)
And you have no idea of mine.
Where is this even going? Why are two people having an argument on my Instagram page?! It’s a PHOTO OF A GREEN DUFFEL BAG WITH PATCHES ON IT.
I lose forty-seven followers, but I pick up fifty-two.
If people don’t want me warts and all, then I don’t want them. This is absolutely what I should be thinking. I should be ignoring them and focusing, as Lydia Portancia would say, on my brand. It makes perfect sense.
Of course, instead of doing this I look at all their profiles and try to work out why they don’t like me anymore. I also still haven’t told Lydia that my next vlog will be au naturel, makeup-free Millie.
Jump that fence, Millie, when you need to, the implanted Mum in my brain says.
Right at the bottom of my post I see the comment.
Hang on in there hooman. Here mah love
Bajka, the brilliantly funny cat, has sent me a comment and a heart.
I should feel happy about this but I just feel jealous that a cat says all the right things when I mainly say the wrong ones.
Also, Erin appears on a sponsored post in my timeline. In summary, she is a diva now promoting a lip gloss and I am a vlog about random bits of my life and a cat.
For the rest of the morning, I am mainly very bored indeed in a home interior warehouse. The trouble is, Mum and I cannot agree on something we both like. I like bright and patterned. Mum likes white. Just white—not even white with a nice patterned trim.
Here are the things I learn from walking miles and miles around bathroom showrooms:
1. Tiles are dull.
2. Bathroom suites can cause huge arguments between couples. I think I witness a divorce starting today over a soap dish.
3. Tiles can cause huge arguments between mothers and daughters.
4. Your boyfriend who is JUST ABOUT TO LEAVE will text you whilst your mum is looking at sinks, and your mum will say, “MILLIE! CONCENTRATE!” like FAUCETS MATTER. Who cares what a faucet looks like as long as water comes out of it?!
Mills, we are busy packing and clothes auditing but want to see you lots. Can you come around this afternoon?
“Can I go and see Danny?” I plead with Mum. “I think you have a very clear vision of what water dispensers you would like.”
Mum looks at me with exasperation.
“Yes, fine!” she blurts. “BUT I do like the simple look, and I have an aesthetic power veto!”
I just nod. If Mum wants the world’s dullest bathroom, she can have it. I hope she and Rod finish it soon, though. He has a tendency to sing classic albums while he is working. The other day he re-enacted something called “Dark Side of the Moon” by Pink Floyd by hammering nails into floorboards and wailing at the top of his voice. I don’t mind, but Dave hovers around him like a major fangirl and tries to join in. She really is shameless.