I suppose this brief picture I’ve painted of my life is about as much as you’re going to get as to how mind-numbingly marvellous it is to be me. Yes, I’m no Cleopatra. And yes, maybe Legolas and I won’t hit it off (as for Orlando Bloom, that’s another matter entirely...) but the fact is that I’d rather not be parading around with the fellowship or facing it off with a pack of wild beasts in the Coliseum. As I’ve said, I hate exercise. And let’s face it – whilst I love all of these different worlds, and it’s practically the highlight of my life to find and create them so I can escape to somewhere spectacularly exciting for a few hours of my day, I would never want to actually live in them.
Pharaohs didn’t exactly have a long life expectancy (partly because of their dodgy DNA, thinking about all of the incest that went on behind the scenes), and I can bet neither did beast tamers. To lions and alligators I must look like some sort of mutton chop. If I was a cowboy I know I’d end up shooting myself in the foot. And as for Middle Earth? I could be pulverised by an orc, I’m so pathetic.
I could have been born as anyone, anywhere, at any time. But I was born as me. And that’s okay. In fact it’s more than okay, it’s great.
Because that’s the way life works.
The End
YOU ARE READING
The Short Memoirs of a Totally Random and Even More Useless British Teenager
UmorismoHEY, YOU!! Yeah, you! Have you ever wanted to see "SMEE!!!" the musical? Be chased by a Hellhorse? Out-maths a P.E. teacher? Say "hello potato ice cream" in Welsh? Well, neither did I - but here's how it all happened anyway. #memoirmonth
