HOLLY, you’ve quit This Morning for the sake of your family, but the kids are at school, your husband’s at work and the TV remote is right there.
Wondering how to get through the day without resorting to the nation’s favourite tranquiliser? I’ve been doing it since May. Here’s my advice.
If you really need to lose a few hours and can’t flick on ITV without seething at f**king give-me-all-the-jobs Hammond, I recommend cannabis. Pack the bowl, inhale the smoke. Three hours will have passed without anything happening except slumping on the sofa and drooling. It practically is This Morning.
Now you’re on the other side of the screen, why not do what the viewers do? Sprawl out and crack one out using only your reflection for stimulation. It’s a real leveller, realising your long career and decades of renown amount to no more than a lazy tug.
Honestly, the morning flies by with festering vengeful urges. Focus on every bastard you hate and who’s destroyed your career for their own idle amusement. Plot revenge, perhaps even draw pictures. Before you know it it’s time for the school run.
Living in filth
You can’t do anything around the house because that would only remind you of This Morning. Cooking, cleaning, organising your wardrobe, or speculating about the love lives of minor celebrities all give you flashbacks, never mind when Rylan pops round. Live in total squalor and order Deliveroo.
Be glad you don’t have to present Dancing On Ice any more
There’s always a silver lining, and in our case it’s that we’ve escaped from that piece of shit. A sub-Strictly parade of near-celebrities skidding about on ice with nobody even bothering to make GIFs when they fall on their arses? I chuckle through whole mornings knowing I’m out of that bullshit. Join me.