Midlife guide to...

Brexhaustion

Wow, you look tired. Long day at the office?

Far worse than that: I’m suffering from a serious case of Brexhaustion.

And there was me thinking the dodgy portmanteaus would end after the referendum. What are the symptoms?

Brow in a permanent furrow, endless worried chit-chat with the neighbours you’ve been happily ignoring for years, squinting your way through the formerly enjoyable task of reading the news in case the continent has imploded overnight. That kind of thing.

Sounds rough. Any way out of it?

Of the Union? The referendum result? This conversation? I need specifics.

I was referring to the Brexhaustion.

Doesn’t look like it: Brexit and all associated wordplay (see also Regrexit, Jexit, Frexit et al) have dominated more column inches in the aftermath of the vote than they did in the run-up, thanks to the Prime Minister’s resignation and the Labour Party setting fire to itself.

What’s next?

Likely more of the same – see too Eurogeddon, Bregretting, no one knows what is going on. Apart from Bracism, which is definitely happening.

Yes, I can see why you can’t sleep. So, what’s next?

Well, I am sure that Branxiety is going to be declared a thing really soon.

Please stop. I can’t bear it.

Neither can I. I think I need to make my Brexcuses and leave.