Things I Think About When I’m Fed Up (Part Two)

• Old TV schedules, when the day felt safely divided into chunks.
• The sound of a house settling in the evening.
• How cereal tasted better when eaten off a tray.
• Theme tunes that instantly told you everything was okay.
• The feeling of being wrapped in a duvet that smelled like fabric softener.
• Saturday mornings when the world hadn’t woken up yet.
• How some shows felt like they knew you.
• Sitting on the floor for no reason other than it felt right.
• The comfort of repetition — same episodes, same jokes, same endings.
• Knowing exactly how something would end… and liking it more because of that.

When I’m fed up, my brain doesn’t want answers.
It wants familiarity.
It wants things that don’t ask anything of me.

I think nostalgia isn’t about wanting to go back —
it’s about remembering that comfort exists,
and it’s allowed to be simple.

Sometimes that’s enough to get me through the day.