Supposedly a simian brine shrimp, I grow weary of the teeny tiny sea bananas.
I'm also a South African who came to the UK like millions of others and did some stuff like picked apples, put flowers on conveyor belts, slept outside train stations, served coffee, fiddled with volcanic bacteria and fixed plant hairstyles.
But for some mad reason I am gave all of that up to go back to South Africa again, after 9 years away.
I'm not sure I can even call myself a Saffa any more, and my ability to make a good potato salad was always questionable anyway.
Now I am doing my best to fit in exactly as I did before, by being the usual social outcast misfit who people think is foreign.
It's ok, I'm used to it.