'Love-Island withdrawal' has yet to be recognised as an actual illness, despite the entire country wallowing at 9:01pm feeling emptier than the Labour Party post-Brexit. The only remedy to such heartbreak is cheese and carbohydrates, but then we are cruelly reminded of the TV Gold pantomime #toastiegate. You change tactics and go for a soothing cup of tea, but then you get flashbacks of 'Mugggymugmug' echoing through your mind and you have to hide your favourite mug in the cupboard under the sink.
Whatsapp conversations are have grounded down to a halt. You have run out of small talk so you eat your packed lunch in a silence. The dreaded question that you know you need to answer, but you are putting it off like a phone bill or a bikini wax.
'What does one do with their spare time now?'
I'll tell you chaps. Spend the next three minutes of your day seeing what Love Islander you best match. You can work on being a vaguely functioning adult with priorities next week.
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This article originally appeared on The Debrief.