Welcome to Pandora’s Box of Shit!

Ready to open the lid? Stick a peg on your nose, grab a plunger and let’s dive right in!

Me at a party circa 1984

Welcome to my Substack! I’m Sara (pronounced Sah-rah, not Seh-rah or Zah-rah, but if you’re like 96% of people, you’ll get it wrong, and I’m too polite to correct you, so I’ll accept my new name). 

I’m a tired mum of a nine-year-old boy and seven-year-old boy/girl twins — no, they’re obviously not identical — who’s spent the last 20 years (fuck) in various marketing and copywriting roles. But my special skill (I hope!?) is making people chuckle, chortle and maybe even snort (snortle?). It all started in year one when I laughed so hard I pissed my pants — a trauma which followed me till graduation (and beyond). 

Inside my big ol’ box of shit, you will find all sorts of hilarious (hopefully) and humiliating (almost certainly) personal stories and humorous takes on a smorgasbord of turd-adjacent topics.

From the mundanity of daily life to family skeletons, anxiety and unfulfilled creative callings (Christ, when I list them off like that, it sounds like about as much fun as letting three toddlers give you a pedicure — been there, done that), there’s something for everyone.  

I think they did a pretty good job, no?

Frequently asked questions 

As a people-pleaser from way back, I want you to feel incredibly comfortable here, so I have created some super handy FAQs about what to expect. In reality, you might be my first reader, so there are no “frequently” asked questions, or any questions for that matter. But if there were, these would be them.

What is this place? 

This is what pours out of a middle-aged mother of three who has the weight of unrealistic societal expectations, unrelenting self-judgement, an inner critic called Karen (pls fuck off), a life-limiting case of perfectionism and an innate fear of rejection strangling a small, muffled, creative voice inside her. But fuck it! We’re gonna do it anyway.

Who are you? 

I’m a human woman with many thoughts and feelings. By day, I work as a copywriter and digital marketer, selling my soul for the corporate dime. By night, I am visited by any number of my three children, two cats, one dog, a partner with chronic sleep apnoea and a sleep-paralysis demon in the form of the Candy Man from the original 1992 film. 

I’ve just returned to my hometown of Perth in Western Australia, the most isolated capital city in the world. It’s known for its incredible beaches, planet-destroying mining industry and the cutest animals ever, Quokkas! I took a picture for your appreciation (yes, it’s in a pub).

A cuuuuute Quokka in the Rottnest Island pub.

Before that, I lived in London and Sydney for nearly 20 years — mainly as part of a long-term strategy to avoid unprocessed childhood trauma — surprise, it follows you over land and sea!  

Why Pandora’s Box of Shit? 

Just as in all great patriarchal mythology, a woman inadvertently fucks up the world by doing something stupid. In real life, we know it’s usually men who are the destroyers of worlds (or at least towns, cities and countries) LOL. 

I find the story of Pandora’s Box hilarious because the Gods entrust poor old Pandora with this very important box (by all accounts, it was more of a vase) containing all the evils of the world, and then she’s like, “Whooooops.” 

My own life has been a Pandora’s Box, with all sorts of giant shits emerging over the years, from mahoosive family secrets (surprise, he’s not your father!) to toxic and abusive relationships, the birth of twins (I don’t call them shits to their face but boy they can make a stink sometimes), anxiety, depression and so much more! 

But as with Pandora’s Box, there’s also hope. My therapist told me I use humour to avoid processing my trauma, but honestly, laughing at myself makes me feel good. If we can make the heavy stuff feel even 10% lighter, why shouldn’t we?

Why are you doing this? 

There are simply not enough items on my “things to feel anxious and rejected about” list to keep me awake between 3 a.m. and 5 a.m., so I’m adding this Substack to really get the party started! 

To be serious for a second, this Subtack is my way of giving myself permission to create for the fun and joy of creating. It’s about allowing myself to get messy and silly out of pure curiosity and brazen disregard for my credibility (self-imagined or otherwise). If I create something you like, amazing! If not, you obviously have terrible taste and no sense of humour. JOKING! (but am I?)

How often will you post? 

I hope to post once or twice a week, but who knows?

Can we connect?

Fuck yes! I want to know all about you. Comment, DM, whatever you like.

Ready to open the lid? Stick a peg on your nose, grab a plunger and let’s dive right in!  

Sara xo