Christmas Hello....

Three weeks before Christmas and an Audi ran into the back of me after a Ford Focus smashed into her.  The Ford was a write off and I thank God that the Audi was between me and the Ford, or me and mine would have been a write off too.  I was a nervous wreck driving for a few weeks with constant over checking in my rear view mirrors, but no actual damage to me or my car. 

By the time Christmas Eve arrived, I had said 'those' words, the words that makes the Grinch rub his hands with glee, those words that kill angels and neutralises star dust... I uttered; 'I can't wait for Christmas to be over.' 

I know, as the words left my mouth, I heard clocks seize and magic die.  You know that I didn't mean it.  I was just so done with family drama and petulant behaviour, that I said something that I didn't mean.

Christmas Eve arrives and I have lots of baby cuddles with my new baby Great Niece EG, I leave CJ's (my darling nephew's) and head to my sister's who is the new Nanna, to deposit presents.  Jan is showing me a video of EG managing to cover her face with her bib, all on her own.  As we watch the video again and again, one of the new Grandparent cards taped to the back of the hall door falls to the ground.

'Hi Mum',  Jan and I look at each other as I acknowledge that Mum is around.  We are used to the occasional "appearance" and I think it's important to acknowledge it, I believe it must take great effort.  When it's time to leave, I approach the door with roughly twenty-five cards taped to the back of the door.  I reach to pick up the card that has fallen from the middle of the arrangement, the card looks familiar and as I open it and peek inside, it's the card that I sent to the new Grandparents, fallen, from the centre of the display, amidst all of the other cards.

Houston...

Last winter, the neighbours told me that they hoped that I didn't mind, but when they went on their roof to clear autumn leaves, check the vents etc., they also checked my roof. 

Fast forward through several seasons, a prolonged hospital stay and a dodgy hip, and I am asked if I will do the honours this year due to daughter being afraid of heights.  No problem, I reply, I'm not afraid of heights, one good deed etc.

This weekend, the time had come, I pulled on my scruff and climbed the ladder, one of those that gets narrower near the top.  I climbed up no problem, reached the roof and did my stuff, clearing out drains, sweeping up leaves and shovelling dirt into a big bucket.

Twenty minutes later and I was done.  Houston, we have a problem.  Have you seen people on television who are 'frozen' on a roof?  I confess that I had a moment.  I had a total freak out in my head and I can totally understand how someone can lose the ability to put one foot in front of the other.  I was staring at the ladder, standing on the roof and I literally did not know how to... 'dismount'.

Logistically, it seemed pretty impossible, how the heck was I going to get off the roof and onto the ladder?  I had a couple of minutes montage in my head of pure panic.  I envisioned other neighbours being summoned, the fire brigade, the local newspaper.  It was fear of embarrassment which overpowered fear of getting on to the ladder in the end.

I gently knelt on the edge of the roof with the drop behind me, feet hanging off, dangling in the wind, then, I gingerly felt for the narrow ladder to my left.  My arms and legs shook, but I made it down the ladder without incident.

Same time next year?  I asked as I dismounted, trying to wipe away any tinge of fear.  I really could have done with a panel of judges holding up 10's at this point.

A few hours later and neighbour arrived with a bunch of flowers, lovely thought, totally unnecessary.  And you know what?  The next time I'm petrified on a roof, I know that I can put one foot in front of the other and make it safely to earth.

Hello Little One, Goodbye to Big...

It's been a mixed week, feel like I've been on the verge of tears over everything, all week, songs, adverts, the news, news, work.  Everything.
Firstly, above all, it's a wonderful week because my darling nephew's daughter arrived on Wednesday.  I haven't met her yet but I can tell you already that I love her and would die for her.  Nuff said.  She's actually still in the hospital but will hopefully be home today.

CJ phoned me with the news, just before bedtime, and after an excruciatingly difficult and long day in work, it was the best news, and such a surprise, even though she was a little over her due date, there were no... she's on her way messages, nothing until.... 'I'm with my daughter.'  Did you just hear my heart melt again?

Other than that, it's been long days in work, a few days of throwing away my lunch, because I hadn't had time to eat it, nights of being unable to get to sleep, and or waking up at 4am.  Throw into the mix, mild tonsillitis, (only on one side,)  and the scent of sorrow in the world at present and there you have it, a recipe for tears.

It was also a week of goodbyes.  I've been at my current job for two years and since day one, 'Big Jim' has been; warm, friendly, encouraging and... I've been searching for that last adjective for a while and the best I've come across is... commanding.  Last night, he threw a leaving party at a club close to work, he is also generous and has class.  Another colleague mentioned that we all know that Jim's a big man, but he has real 'presence', and I could not have described him more perfectly.  Everything seems OK and in control when Jim is around, like you're in safe hands.  I'm sorry I didn't get to work with him longer, to enjoy his company and to learn, and I'm sorry I didn't get to introduce him to some of my gorgeous friends, I actually had three potentials in mind for him.  He'd be lucky to have any of them on his arm, and they would be lucky to have him.

So, weird week with happy hello's, sad goodbyes, sleeplessness, empathy and a little illness... which I'm still trying to both understand and heal from.  There was more relatively boring stuff too, prescription mix ups, blood tests, other tests required, all non important at the moment, just frustrating, time consuming and bothersome.

I need to get some sleep, get rid of any infection I have floating around the throat area and get to meet my Great Niece for the first time.  Right now, that really is all that matters.

I ♥ EGM

Practice What you Preach

I've been off work for a week now.  Not the best of breaks, can't seem to shake off the tiredness or melancholy.  I've crammed in sleep... very important, nurses appointment, tell you about that later, had blood tests and made a doctor's appointment for the results, that's weeks away, as usual.  Had dinner out with Jan, followed by biggest Christmas tree in Europe being lit followed by fireworks display, visit to see the Poppy display at St. George's Hall, (thought about Grandad,) and follow-up appointment with sister who had op for cancer this year, had physio, coffee with cousin and baby cousin... highlight, that was pretty much it.

Quite a week I suppose.  So, nurses appointment was funny.  I had to wait four weeks for the appointment.  Arrived at 7.15pm, fifteen minutes early, to be told that the nurse was running 16 minutes late.  I made the appointment, firstly because my blood pressure check was due and secondly, because I can't help feeling that something is out of kilter somewhere.

Despite being told there was a sixteen minute delay, within two minutes, I heard my name called.  I stood up, briefly spotted a figure in blue who raced off ahead of me.  I kept up, just, and followed the nurse into the exam room.  To say that the nurse looked dishevelled, is being kind.  But I felt for her.  She had probably been on duty for about ten hours at this point.  I'm sure her hair was all up at the beginning, now, we have a... half up, half sticking out at 90 degrees scenario going on. 

"So you're new to the practice?"
"No, I've been coming here since I was a child."
"But you haven't been here for over twelve months."
"I last came for a BP check in July this year."
"You're not on BP meds yet though."
"I'm on Lisinopril."

It went on like that for a while, but God love her, I was probably the sixty-something patient she'd seen that day.

In the five minutes that I was actually in there, I tried to convey that I'd been very tired for a while, that I understood that this was due to either work, early starts or hormones, and after initially telling me that she couldn't authorise blood tests, in the end, she ticked every box for me to be checked; liver, renal, cholesterol, thyroid, iron, B12 etc.

"You're OK with a fasting blood test?"
"No" (I was joking... partly.)
"You may as well go tomorrow, while you're off, they open at 8.30am."

So after having woken early with thoughts of coffee, coffee and more coffee, I settle for boiled water and leave early to avoid the school traffic and to get there early.

I arrive at the hospital at 8.20am, only to read the sign to say that they begin the phlebotomy sessions at 9am.  Luckily, I'd brought a magazine with me.

At 8.58am, my number clicked onto the screen, come on down, number 83.  The nurse aims for my right arm, "you won't get anything out of there."  Nurse smiles and moves over to my left arm, and I look away. 

Rainbows

I'm not going to lie.  This week, was rubbish.  This week was Mum's anniversary, 5th November, Bonfire Night actually, so when all around me are giddy with the thought of fireworks and sparkles, I'm trying to put a brave face on things and dodge the ones that sound like bombs going off.

Last year, I sailed through, this year, for some reason, seemed hard.  As if it wasn't bad enough, I at least thought I'd get better at it as the years went by.

I made it through the day OK, just about, with the thought of escaping from work on time and just getting to the safety of home to keep me going.  But, I didn't get out of work on time, and so the traffic was horrendous and it took forever to get home.

On top of this, my, "unidentifiable", has been absent, vacant and aloof.  Oh, and I feel terrible, not sure why, haven't worked out in over a week. 

It's Friday night and I have now finished work for a week.  I'm trying to watch some nonsense on the TV to help my brain to de-stress and zone out... with a glass of wine.  I can't do it, I can't even tolerate nonsense.  It's serious, I need the Big Guns, I need a mini binge watch of Carrie, Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte... and maybe a little Big.  I turn to 'Time and Punishment', 'An American Girl in Paris (Part Une)' and 'An American Girl in Paris (Part Deux)'.  They hit the spot, collectively, perfectly.  (♥ Paris)

A few days after Mum's funeral, most of the family congregated at the cemetery to scatter the ashes.  While we were there, we saw a double rainbow and since then, I've always associated rainbows with Mum.  I cried myself to sleep last night, something I haven't done for a while.

It's the day after the anniversary and tonight, on the way home, as I crawled thought the traffic, I was mesmerised by a brilliantly coloured, double rainbow.  Most would say that this was a coincidence, I choose to take it as a "hello."

Wrapped up in Memories

Thanks so much for phoning sweetie, it's the next best thing to catching up in person and it was so delicious to just pour out everything I've been dying to tell you.

I'm very aware that life is about to change forever.  Baby CJ will be here in just a few weeks.  My Mum, the Great Grandmother of Baby CJ, would have been beside herself with excitement, but I'm sure she knows what's going on, has probably already said hello in fact.

Yesterday was Halloween and I duly showered in good time but rather than throwing on my PJ's, I reached for never worn jeans, which I've had for about 5 years, and a Gap, jumper from my top shelf, which I haven't worn for about 12 years.  I deliberately have stayed away from said jumper because of the memories it stirs.

I bought three jumpers from Gap at the same time, cream, black and plumb, cable knit, sailor collar, cotton mix.

Clothes, hold memories and present them to you every time you look at them or put them on.  I have inherited an ottoman, which holds a bedspread, which is made up of squares of material from my childhood, dresses, bedding etc., it's all there, in three inch squares, for posterity.  Each square sporning a memory.

Last night, I threw on my jeans and reached for the Gap jumper, as soon as I put it on, I was instantly transported back to a hospital bedside, where the patient touched my arm, touched that jumper.

So, I was all ready for the tiny Halloween'ers, I have a rule, if they are shorter than me, I open the door, as tall as or taller, I don't open the door, but the past few years, I've had quite a few little'un's knock, even toddlers trooped around.  This year, only three knocks, a two... sisters, about eight, and a singleton, very brave, made sure he got extra candy and wished him a Happy Halloween.  That was it, no more, tons of candy left over.

Halloween brought up more than I had bargained for but that's just how it is.  If I place that jumper on my top shelf again and don't touch it for the next 50 years, it will still hold on to those memories for me, as long as I have my marbles anyway. 

Maybe, I should wear the jumper, and create new memories.

It's a Love In

I'm looking at a gun metal sky with golden light bouncing off of dancing, brittle leaves.  Leaves cascade into my patio like confetti on a windy day, and it's gorgeous. 

Autumn is definitely upon us and I love this time, but know that it means that it's not long before the clocks fall back and darkness descends. 

On the bright side, my darling, baby nephew is 30 years of age today, but if you tell anyone, I'll have to kill you, ;)  And... his first baby is due in about four weeks.

I feel like I've witnessed a life, cycle.  I was buoyed with excitement when CJ was due, I remember getting the news that he'd been born, running all the way to my friend Jane's to tell her, well, her Mum the news that he had arrived.  I remember seeing him for the first time.  And now, here we are, rightly, expecting his baby.  I couldn't be more full of love, or feel older ;)

Bobsicle

So, the gorgeous and sleek, Anna Wintour bob that I loved so much, has transitioned into the wavy, body-licious Carrie Bradshaw bob, SATC circa Season 5, in particular, the one with the Saltwater Taffy.  I loved the sleek version so much but I would spend 20 minutes, around 5am, blow drying to sleekness only to have a rainy / damp / foggy, morning, (most mornings,) turn it to lank and listless fuzz in less than 10 minutes.  Lets face it, at that hour of the morning, it's a total waste of time and effort.

So for now, my hair looks great, (had lots more positive comments,) and it takes me less than 10 minutes to dry, and I don't have arm ache.

I had a great weekend away visiting friends down south, lots of late nights, eating, drinking, relaxing, sleeping, and on the final day, lots of new baby cuddles.  I am in love.  The cuddles brought me something else.  My nephew, who is like a little brother to me, is expecting his first child, a daughter.  She will be my first Great Niece and while I have been both delighted yet cool, now, with only 5 weeks to go, I'm beside myself with excitement, but don't tell anyone ;)  I really hope she likes me, I've already earmarked a book which will be perfect bedtime reading, when she's two, maybe three, possibly four.

I finally got my front, drivers side tyre fixed, as in replaced in the end.  I've had a slow puncture since I got the car, 18 months ago and I know that I'm very lucky I didn't have a flat, (more than once,) let alone a blow out in that time, there just always seemed to be something more pressing to spend money on.  With another winter looming, I was getting more and more nervous driving on it, so it was time to get it sorted.  It was un-fixable and I needed a new tyre which they had to order in, but now it's good and I'm safe.

21 Day Fix?

My two weeks off didn't exactly fly by, but was still over quicker than I would have liked.  I didn't do everything I had on my to-do list but I did do quite a bit, including more sorting and organising and decluttering, without over scheduling myself.  I was really feeling low on energy, so I did what I felt like.

What I did do was eat, and drink... regularly, with friends, family and more friends and different family.  By the end of the two weeks, (and after a good two months of eating rubbish on a regular basis, can I just say that I say rubbish with love, I adore Freddo Frogs and Walkers Sensations but I really shouldn't have them on a daily basis.)

So, after deliberating for a few months and notching up another birthday, I finally decided to take myself in hand and do something about what I was unhappy about.

I decided to invest in Autumn Calabrese's 21 Day Fix just to get me exercising regularly, but a little weight loss would be a bonus, (nothing major but I've gained about 5lbs and while it's 'only' 5, let's face it, it's still 5lbs of fat.)

I watched the 'infomercial' probably fifty times before I bit the bullet and actually ordered it.  I'm just going to spit it out and tell you that I will not be in the next version of the infomercial.  I am, the 'anti-Autumn'.  I'm kidding but I don't think I'll be revealing any shock stats at the end of my 21 days.  I honestly thought I would struggle with the exercise, I don't mean the moves, (although I knew it would be a challenge,) I mean actually working out for 21 days straight.

I did think that I would be fine with the diet side of things, (sorry, if you haven't heard of this, it's an exercise and eating plan.)  The plan involves eating way more than I do normally, so I thought it would be a breeze, unfortunately, I still had cravings for either 'more', even though I wasn't hungry, or rubbish that I still had in my cupboards.

I wasn't discouraged though, I realise it's a hand in hand approach but for me, getting my body moving is my priority, and I figure that the eating will catch up sooner or later.

Let me tell you a bit about Autumn Calabrese;

She's not annoying.
She is a mind reader, just when you're mid workout and having a conversation in your head, with yourself about the reasons why it's time to call it a day... she tells you that she knows what you're thinking, she can hear you and that you should keep going, you can do it.  Damn it.
She's broken every workout down into 60 second chunks, so even if you think one particular exercise is a mountain to climb, it's only for 60 seconds after all.
She's kind.  Monday's workout... my first one, left me sore, as you would expect.  Tuesday's workout, mostly left alone the sore bits :)
She always has a modifier, in the guise of the lovely Kat.  I didn't think I would need to modify but I probably have, at least 40% of the time, and that's OK... because Autumn said so.

I completed my first 7 days, struggled with the eating, managed the workouts.  Scale showed I'd gained 2lbs, but when you do a bit of research, Autumn tells you to stay away from the scales in the first week or two as your muscles will swell and you'll retain water... or something which will give you a false reading in the scales department anyway.

Day 8, I'm struck down with some kind of virus.  I ache from head to toe and I feel like the right side of my head is congested, infected... just not ticketyboo.  I Googled and the experts from Beachbody recommend that if you're sick below the neck, rest, otherwise it's going to be the equivalent of over training.

I give myself the whole week off and then begin again.  This time, the eating is a breeze, I'm never hungry and I have no cravings.  I admit, I stuck to the diet Monday - Friday, rigorously.  Saturday and Sunday, I did stray, (into wine and crisps,) I still lost 3lbs and I feel more toned already.

By the end of week two, my work pants feel enormous, the workouts are getting easier, correction... Autumn would tell me that I'm getting stronger, and I'm down another 1lbs.

Dawned on me this week that I won't get to complete my 21 days in a row, as I fly down south to friends next Thursday, I'll be 4 days short.

While I'm a bit disappointed that I won't get to finish, I'm not going to let it derail me.  The website shows many examples of people doing multiple rounds until they reach their goal.  My goal was always to exercise more... in first ranking, so I've already succeeded.  While I know that there will be nights when I get home from work and it's practically my bedtime and I am too tired to eat let alone workout, or when I'm ill and I just can't bring myself to workout, and that will be OK if I miss a workout.  If I can workout 5 times a week, from now on, I'll be very happy.

So, after 17 days straight of exercise and 13 days of following the eating plan, I have lost 6lbs and 1 inch.  I'm very happy with that.

I'm off work and I know that I will eat things that are not on the plan or eat more of what I should, even if it's on the plan but I know that as soon as I'm back at work, I'll be focused again.

I think I have another 7lbs to lose, so I'm looking forward to seeing how my body reacts and co-operates to that end.

Birthday Girl

I'm on the brink of another birthday and three days into a seventeen day break from work.  I feel old, stiff and mostly tired, really overtired, like I could sleep for all of those seventeen days tired.

Every so often, usually around a birthday or New Year, anytime I feel totally exhausted, I have a little therapy session with myself, a little Q&A.

How do we think the last 7.5 months have gone?

Work; a few highs, some extreme lows.  I had quite a few sleepless nights and sometimes dreaded going in, but I did, and as I left for my break, things were much calmer.

Health; not bad, still have a lid on my blood pressure and I've tried to keep up with exercises which prevent me from becoming too stiff in between physio session.

Finances; no better, no worse.

Emotions?  Quite frankly, been through the wringer.  Nothing like cancer to tip your world upside down.

So what's the plan?

Honestly, I'm not sure.  I do know that I need to change a few things.

I currently work out about twice a week, (at the weekend,) if I can make myself, which I usually can, but not always.  It's a little light cardio and I do some moves in the week for flexibility, if I have the energy, but, I can go all week without doing a thing.

For my body, and for my mind, I think I need to be working out 5 out of 7 rather than 2 max... if I'm lucky.  I need to incorporate more strength training.  I've started to do this already after buying 5kg dumbbells in the January sale this year.  I need to be more structured and consistent with this, also need to unearth the energy and motivation after a day at work, which is my main problem just now.

Diet?  By 'diet', I mean food.  I'm doing pretty well.  Well, in the past month, I've been reaching for the crisps and the milk chocolate more often, (my once luxury and infrequent treat,) but that's what happens when I'm running on empty.

Alcohol; You know that I love a nice glass of wine Col, but apparently, my body now cannot handle more than one, these days.  Go figure.  Wouldn't surprise me if I was tee-total by this time next year.

Sleep; Ahhhhh sleep.  During the working week, I average about seven hours per night.  Weekends and now, while I'm on leave, I wake naturally after about nine.  That's a huge deficit over a week, month, year. 

Commute.  The morning commute is fine.  I'm on the road by 5.40am, at the latest, the roads are quiet, or quiet enough for me to avoid any crazy drivers who are out that early.  The journey home is a different matter.  It takes twice as long, is nose to tail for probably one third to two thirds of the journey.  It's riddled with crazy people and juggernauts.  When you finally get to a free flowing part where you can put your foot down, someone is so close behind you that you can't see their number plate, pushing and pushing you to go faster and faster, regardless of the speed limit, it's stressful and I feel like I'm an accident waiting to happen.

Home; home feels good, calm, great actually.  The 'great de-clutter' is finally yielding dividends and I have less to go than I have already done... if you see what I mean.  The back burning project of the past ten years or so is finally coming to the end.  I would say that I'm 90% there, complete.

While I never felt like I lived in a 'busy' or disorganised environment, the new order has brought a new feeling of calm and peace.  Freedom. 

I need a million jobs doing; new boiler, bathroom needs re-tiling, new kitchen, carpet everywhere, decorate, everywhere, but it will all have to be done, one job at a time.

Hair... looking good, but still miss being able to throw it up in to a pony.  Not sure what to do over winter.

Right now?  Right now, I just really would like to sleep.

Pancake Day

I celebrated my time off with a little too much wine.  I just can't drink anymore Col.  I watched "Legends of the Fall", a brilliant film, (cried my eyes out.)  with a stellar cast, and a film that I haven't watched for about fifteen years, it was wonderful, all of the cast exemplary, I hope Sir Anthony Hopkins received some recognition for his portrayal of the Father.

I slept solidly for nine hours, then my alarm woke me, which means that I wasn't done yet, but it's a start.

I felt slightly hung over and not able to workout, but I did attempt one of my goals; to make pancakes.  Not the American fluffy kind, but the normal, English pancakes that I was brought up on, well, every Pancake Day anyway... the flat kind.  I'd unearthed Mum's griddle pan last weekend and researched recipes, I was good to go.

I have watched my Mum stand at the stove and produce pancake after perfect pancake.  She was amazing, but how hard can it be?

Turns out... quite, actually.  So, I rose, measured everything out and heated up the griddle pan.  It was only while I was standing over the heat that I wondered if my memory was slightly befuddled.  Yes, my Mum painstakingly stood over the plate and poured perfect batter, time after time.

Now that I'm looking at my batter, on the hotplate, wishing it not to fall off the edge, wondering if my memories are slightly askew?

Did Mum produce pancakes on Pancake Day, in the iron frying pan that I can barely lift, not the griddle pan... the one without edges?  Was it Scotch pancakes on the griddle pan?  An entirely different type of pancake, that was produced on the griddle?

My attempts were, how should I put this?  I mean, they were not terrible, but my pancakes did not resemble my Mum's, nor did they taste like Mum's.  Not sure where they went wrong.  Managed a few bites.  Better luck, next time.

Saturday afternoon and I should be doing many,  many chores, but I am, instead, watching 'Funny Girl'.  God, Barbra Streisand is beautiful and brilliant in this role.  Also feeling quite melancholy about Mr Sharif, a sad and recent loss. 

Aiming to decompress, need to decompress.  Really need to sleep.

Finally

For the past six weeks, I've been running on empty, as they say.  It's been a case of... head down, just keep putting one foot in front of the other, keep going to bed at a reasonable hour, keep getting up and getting ready, look presentable, head out of the door.

The day finally arrived.  Friday was my last day in for two weeks.  The past week, I have been going though the motions, trying to do everything I possibly can, just to make it to the end.

I had a brief conversation with God on the way to work, Friday morning, 'whatever happens today, thank you for getting me through the past few months'. 

I wasn't trying to hedge my bets, I honestly expected my last day before my much deserved break, to go to hell in a hand cart, but at least he'd got me thus far.  But it didn't.  I didn't have any last minute disasters.  I went to lunch with my two team buddies, the boys had a couple of beers, I had a tiny pinot grigio, and we chatted and ate gorgeous Italian cuisine.  Two hours flew by.

I managed to finish work on time and as I pulled into my drive, I felt quite emotional.  I could, quite easily have cried.  I was just exhausted.  I always get emotional when I'm over-tired.  I felt like I'd just run a marathon.

I made it.  I'm now off for seventeen whole days.  Can't believe it.

Fairytale Ending

It's been a week of extremes.

This week, I met my fellow Leonine friend, slightly older and by that, I mean wiser, more glamorous... gorgeous friend for coffee and a long overdue catch up.  Leo's  always get on so well, but we do. 

We need to talk at 100 miles per hour to cram everything in, in the hour or so that we have and we always vow to catch up again sooner.  My glam friend's main news was this...

After over twenty years together, Sacha and David married, splickity splat, no muss, no fuss... just like that. Sacha is actually my old boss.  Dear Lord, she was one tough cookie, but she was always fair and since I left, I can see the softer side of her.  After my friend describes the surprise and low key day, in walks Sacha.   She looks more beautiful than ever, the ring is simple, understated and gorgeous and I'm totally jealous of her ability to concentrate on the important part and not get caught up in the hoopla that goes along with so many weddings these days.

Thursday and Friday this week, I worked over twenty hours, factor in four hours of commuting over those days, and you can see why I was beyond tired.

I think you could probably describe me as a 'transmonster'?  You know, the one where Rachel and Monica are being quizzed by Ross for the appartement?  What is Chandler's job title?  If he did any of what I did this week, for nine hour stretches at a time... then according to Rachel, I'm a transmonster.  I input digit's to four decimal places for hours and hours at a time, and then checked them over and over again.  Sounds like a transmonster to me.  After the first 24 hours, my neck had a twang going on, thank God it's physio next week.

I re-watched 'Something's Gotta Give', I adore that film, and this quote; "I let someone in and had the time of my life"  Thank you Nancy Meyers... via Diane Keaton

John is a little older than me but he looks good, takes care of himself, if I asked him for a coffee, I think he'd accept, I swear I'm not being big headed, I think he likes me, I think he's open to finding someone.  I think he's a great catch however I'm caught up on someone else.  I do however think that he would be a great probability for one of two of my friends.  What the heck do I do?  How do you set someone up these days, without putting pressure on either party, without inflating hopes.  Why can't people just go out for coffee these days?

One of my best friends set me up on a blind date and it was a disaster and I think I put her off repeating the effort, for ever. 

I'm being harsh, it wasn't a disaster but I was my usual D'artagnon self, (on guard,) while my blind-date-ee did a great impression of an over eager puppy.  If he'd been a little more laid back, we would have made it to date two, even if we were to stay at just friends.

That's the trouble.  You reach a certain age and while women may secretly wish to, 'settle down', (I should swiftly add that I'm not yet one of them,) well, we can disguise it and be totally cool about meeting members of the opposite sex.  Men meanwhile, or at least the men I've met, have a distinct whiff of desperation about them.  I really don't mean that, but there is a definite whiff of over-eagerness shall we say?  (It's off putting, makes me want to run a mile.) 

It's a horrible situation, commitment-phobe versus a really good trier.  That's so sad because the commitmentphobe will always win, but if only they'd give the trier a chance...

So work wise, I have a crick in my neck the size of Orlando, I am exhausted and mobility deprived, (no lunch breaks to walk off my terrible circulation.)

Heart wise, I got a 'we won't lose touch' message from someone special.  I mean, we may lose touch, it's all just words and who knows but off the back of, 'you will be lonely and alone', it was perfect timing.

Smells Like...

It's another Friday and it's payday and I caved and bought a new laptop.  I know, I thought I was stronger than that too but I have to admit that I've been a little bored during the miniscule evenings that I got to enjoy this week, after work and before bed.

It was the cheapest on offer, it's a little clunky but it does all the things that I need it to do and I love it very much for keeping me company for the next approximately five years.

Needless to say, I'm now on a pretty tighter-er budget for the next month, but I can do that.  What I couldn't do, was go a moment longer without a hair cut.  After telling Steph that she was right last time and I did need more layers, I think she went layer mad this time, I'm a little panicked but I'll be able to tell tomorrow, after I've washed and dried it myself.

What did I do this week?  I did a headstand, I know, it's been on my 'to-do' list since I made my New Year's resolutions and I did a side plank thingy, you know where you balance on your forearm and the side of your foot and lift the rest of your body up?  Well I did that and I did, I think they're called side scissors, got them from Autumn Calebrese, and I keep having her words, 'you can do anything for 60 seconds' ringing in my ears as I do them.  I tell you, they work like a dream and they're not that hard.

Change of subject and last weekend, someone told me that I need to find someone, so that I don't end up alone and lonely. I have to say, it was like being stabbed, well I can only imagine but you can appreciate the magnitude. Long story, I was told that I needed single friends if I was to even stand a chance of finding someone of my own. I am acutely aware that I may end up lonely and alone but what do you do? As far as the friend thing goes, this may be really old fashioned, but I believe that the friends you are meant to have in your life, find themselves in your life, whether they want to be or not. I can't imagine going friend hunting for the single variety or for the married/attached version of such. I would just never go hunting for 'friends', friends find you. I've spent the last week a little deflated, pondering my potential aloneness and solitude. Will I... when do I get a cat? How long will I have been dead before the smell tips off the neighbours? You get my drift. There is much to ponder. What do I do next?

Beautiful

Today is Friday and today, I have the whole, day, off.  I slept solidly for nine, delicious hours, rose, had toast and coffee, jogged for fifteen then worked out with Ashley Borden, (love her.)

Almost left home without my purse, I'm sure my regular Starbucks would have offered me a coffee in lieu of payment but not sure the supermarket would have done the same for my groceries.

I had several stops to make, food shop, another food shop, recycle, then off to my sister's. She's doing great since the operation.  I arrived later than planned because of road works, when I did get there, she asked me to wash her back.

I was as gentle as I could be, I've heard a million times that I'm 'like a flea' as in, light of touch, whether it's applying sun lotion, muscle rub or a much needed scratch to someone's itch, but still, she asked me to go easier, that's how sensitive the area still is.  The scar looks amazing though, quite a substantial operation but it's really neat and I'm sure will fade in no time.  (And if it didn't, I would still be very proud of it, if it was mine.)

Next is coffee with a 'friend'.  90 minutes pass like it's just the ten.  Damn it.

You know what I need?  I need a male, gay friend... that wants to have coffee with me and give me unsolicited advice.  (This is, in the absence of You, of course.)  (P.S. Have gay friends but we have not ventured into coffee as yet, I think I may be too old.)

The weekend stretches ahead but I know it will evaporate before I can say...

Laptopless

Last weekend, I finally shoe horned Bee's camera away from her so that I could download the last of PQ's wedding pics from last August.  397 pictures downloaded later, and my already on life support laptop, finally died.  And so, I have been laptopless now for a week.

To begin with, I admit, I went into panic mode, as I have done when my last two have breathed their last.  As the week progressed, I have become less stressed by the fact as I drifted even further away from society.

I always felt so cut off before when I was without a laptop at home.  Maybe it's because I've started to retreat from the world a little that I don't feel it as much now that the initial panic has worn off.

I am hardly on FB, one of my close friends recently told me that she's come off it totally, for a variety of reasons but still, not one I ever would have thought would relinquish it's hold, so maybe I was onto something after all.

I don't have regular emails to respond to, I have 1600 junk emails to currently sort through, none of it is from anyone I know.

I get to spend at least 20 minutes on the Internet at work, before work actually starts at 7am, so maybe I'm not suffering withdrawal symptoms just yet.

Come next pay day, my number one priority, was to purchase a new laptop.  I've been eyeing them up for months as I knew that this day would come, pretty soon.  A week in, and I'm wondering... can I go another four weeks, without a laptop at home?

Well, I'm beginning to think that I may in fact, be able to.  Shocking I know, but the reason that I'm able to write now, is down to the fact that I've brought my work laptop home with me this weekend.  (It's allowed, don't worry.)  I can write, check my emails, workout with Ashley Borden via YouTube, that's pretty much all I need just now.  No, I can't store my pictures, download music etc.  But this could tide me over for four weeks.

I had plans for my next pay cheque which did not include a new laptop, and none of that was essential either.

Not sure what I am going to do yet, do I test myself and go laptopless for a while longer, or do I cave, live off Heinz beans with Lea & Perrins for a month and wallow in the glory of a fully functioning, super duper new laptop?

Pretty Special

It's a Special Birthday for Sue.  Tracy, the organiser of life, has of course organised a surprise meal, note to self, not that I ever will marry, but if I did, for the love of God, enlist Tracy as the planner.

Sheila arrived after a slight delay, looking like my twin, we both chose to wear black cigarette pants and white, sleeveless lace tops.  Luckily, I was wearing my trusty patent nude sling backs and Sheila opted for black strappies, if you add in the substantial height difference, we just about got away with it.  Phew.

 Don was as glam as ever, totally rocked the relatively new glasses, think sexy secretary, I'm being sexist.  Think, sexy CEO.

It was a great night, relaxed, fun, a chance to catch up with friends, although I mostly listened, I was just happy to soak it all up.

Got home at 12.30am after rising at 4.40am.  I made the mistake of switching on the TV to have a '10 minute wind down', and what was on?  Only 'Pretty Woman'.  Gosh dang it, 30 minutes from the end, I did of course, have to indulge in the final moments of a classic.  I think I can recite every word.

Anyway, crashed into bed just after 1am, such a long day but worth every moment.  God Bless Sue, God Bless Julia Roberts.

Sleeeep

The patient has returned home, has a medium sized recovery still ahead of her but she's doing great and I'm so relieved / exhausted.

This week in work was insanely busy and mentally draining, but in a good way.  I was shattered every night, but it was all good.  I was supposed to be off on Friday, but that got cancelled in lieu of Monday, and then that got cancelled, in lieu of... sometime, and while I could really do with a day off right now, it will have to wait. 

Last night, Friday night, I slept for nine, uninterrupted hours, and boy did I need it.  I feel much better this morning although my left eye is still twitching uncontrollably at every given moment.

Saturday night, I clocked ten hours, I still feel like a sleep sponge, I am ready to soak up any sleep opportunity.

I love sleep, I need sleep. Sleep.

Clutter Free

One of the things that I'm most proud of, is the fact that I have painstakingly decanted several lifetimes of memorabilia/possessions/clutter, into one life, my life.

I have, over the years, joked that my home was a work in progress while secretly and diligently considering every book, photograph, tram ticket, item of clothing, piece of paper with writing on it.  You name it, I inherited it, Mum's cousin's stuff, Mum's stuff, Grandparents and Aunt's stuff, anything, anyone of my departed ancestors could, save, collect, adore, has passed through my hands and has been considered.

Occasionally, I wish I was someone who doesn't feel anything, who doesn't pick up a table cloth and know that it was a wedding present to my Aunt, look at an outfit and know that my Mum wore it on her honeymoon with the love of her life.  But, alas, I do feel... everything.  Deep down, I know that they are all just things, just objects, yet I work hard to detach the emotion, the memory and the legacy.

The people that care about me, that love me, really don't understand what all of this entails, but I forgive them because how could they understand when they haven't had to go through it themselves?

I don't think that you're ever truly 'done' with de-cluttering.  That top that you love now, in another 6 months, will languish in your wardrobe for 18 months before you notice it again and decide to... de-clutter.

I'm going to say that I'm 95% done... everywhere.  If you knocked on my door today, I would only have to add fresh bedding to the bed in the guest room and we'd be done.  Impressed?  I suspected as much.  Love you x

Leaving on a Jet Plane, part...

Guess where I am?  Well, the last time I wrote in my journal was the last time I was headed to my friends down South, and that was fifteen months ago.

Right this second, I'm in Costa, with a glass of holiday Chardonnay and a tiny packet of contraband cashews which I purchased at the supermarket this morning, (didn't fancy crisps.)   A lot has happened to us all in fifteen months.  My 'a lot' has happened most recently, the past month especially has been fraught with tears, exhaustion, worry and sleeplessness.  I almost reached my limit, my limit being, I wasn't sure I could continue to function normally, get up at 4.30am, go to work, do a decent job, get home fifteen hours later to grab a bite to eat then try to get some sleep.

With a recent and frightening reminder that life should not be taken for granted, that those we love should not be taken for granted, I am once again, looking at my life from above, and reviewing.

A couple of nights ago, the ridiculousness of my relationship finally dawned on me, I finally got it.  I am totally done with analysing and trying to fathom out, what it is.  I actually felt strong, independent and content with my lot.  It's not that I'm saying goodbye to all that, I just feel like my grip is a little looser on the situation.  Just as I was getting to feel comfortable with the new perspective, he sent me a gorgeous, black and white head shot.  Damn, he's handsome.

Given that nothing lasts forever, although I do believe in life after death and in reincarnation... what if I'm wrong?  What if this is it?  What if he is the funny, flawed, gentle, handsome, love of my life?

Then, there is my childhood friend, who I see maybe twice a year, who I don't think of in 'that way', but he makes my sides split with laughter, I can say anything to him, he thinks I'm weird/funny, I am totally comfortable with him.  I wish that I saw more of him, he brightens my day.

You forget that you need to be pretty fit to travel.  The time at the airport speeds along.  Not sure how far I've walked, carpet or no carpet, seems like quite a way.  My flight is called and we process through the gate and down a gangway, down a staircase and onto tarmac, where we board a bus.  I step up and shuffle to a pole, grab hold of pole, instantly regretting not re-applying the hand sanitiser right before.  I wedge my case, firmly between my legs, assume second position and clench my buttocks to act as shock absorbers.

Ten minutes later and after a slight delay waiting to see if two stragglers are in fact joining the flight, we take off into the hazy sunshine.  I can't wait to see everyone.

Seriously?

It's another School reunion, and a bomb is dropped in my ear...  'Have you really never been in a significant relationship?'  For a start, I'm amazed she can string this sentence together and it catches me off guard.  My drunken, friend between the ages of four and probably twelve, has an arm draped tightly around my neck, hanging on like her life depends on it and the stench of cigarette breath almost renders me unconscious.  What do I say?  'Define; significant?'  Breathe in the other direction to avoid the acrid fumes while I think?

The relationship I've been in for the past few years is pretty significant to me, but it's un-definable.  No, I don't have a ring on my finger but nor do I have an unattractive man shackled to me or smell like an ash tray.

I know that it's the alcohol asking the question but I'm peeved to say the least, that this train wreck is basically pointing out that there must be something flawed within me.

I don't know if she has children or not but given the opportunity to change places with her, would I?

No thank you, I'd back me any day of the week.

100%

The determined shadow and subsequent biopsy eventually told us that it is in fact, lung cancer, operable non the less. My main worry is the diagnosis of the kidney and the surrounding area, this is still inconclusive, plus there is the chance that the lung cancer has already spread.

These days are a blur.  Been impossible to concentrate in work.  Waiting for the diagnosis, waiting for the surgery date, helping to organise, helping to pack.  Day of lobectomy, biopsy executed on remaining lobe to check that it hasn't spread.  Kidney diagnosis outstanding, hopefully unrelated to lung.  Made it through op despite the heart murmur and the sticky blood.

I'm holding it together, work is all but tipping me over the edge, doesn't that say something?  Cancer, I can just about deal with, work, not so much. 

This week has been a round of leaving for work at 6.30am, leaving work at 4ish, hospital by 5ish, leave hospital 6.30ish, home after 7.15ish.  Too tired to have a meal, then going to bed about 9.30pm, only to not sleep.

By Thursday night, I was so tired, I wasn't overly confident that I would be able to drive home without having an accident, I deliberately chose the quieter routes home from the hospital. 

Friday and the patient is allowed home, thank God, another week and I would have been in the next bed. 

Couple of weeks yet until the biopsy results are back, everything is in God's hands.  I am going to say it now, 100%, everything is going to be OK.

Mother of the Baby

I have just watched "Father of the Bride 2", and it got me thinking.  My eldest sister was expecting my niece and friend Lea, at the same time that my Mum was expecting me.  Most peculiar I know, but it is an amazing dynamic and has always been lovely.  Lea is just 10 weeks younger than me.  I wish now, that I'd asked my Mum, what that felt like.

I can't imagine being a Mum to a 22 year old, expecting my first Grandchild and to be also expecting my own and last baby girl.... moi.

How on earth could you comprehend and process that equation?

My family is not without fault, but whose is?  I would not swap my set up, for anyone else's.  I love that I have four, older sisters, I know what 's coming because my Mum was the youngest of five girls and the last surviving of the five.  Not that I expect to outlive mine, with my blood pressure, but there is a chance.

I told my cousin what I'd been thinking, about Mum and how she had coped.  I wondered what it was like when I arrived.  'You're Mum strolled in with you, wearing a fur stole and 3" heels!' Don't judge the fur thing, it was totally OK in those days.  My Mum sounded awesome.

I wonder how much of this was bravado and how much was just the fact that she was born amazing.

My Mum was faced with major disapproval regarding my arrival.  I know for a fact that one of my sister's and my three remaining aunts, were all horrified that I was on my way, my Mum's favourite sister died six months before I was born, (my Cousin's Mum,) I would love to have known what would have made of me, but I'll never know.

That Was the Week...

Truth be told... terrible week.  I currently hate work, really struggling, confidence is low and on top of all of that, biopsy was this week.  I was on edge all day, checking my silent phone for updates every other minute, it was 16.30 when I got my first update; through procedure and on way home.  Just have to wait for results now.

I made it through to the end of Thursday and I'm off today, Friday, thank God. 

Now I'm just going to spill out all of my thoughts for the week Col.

It's Friday, had quite a productive day, so far, washed, ironed, mowed front lawn, re-potted amaryllis in new silvery pot, jogged for 15, shredded one bin bags worth of paper, recycled mags, did a little sorting.

A couple of weeks ago, I asked Bee if she would be able to knit me extra long leg warmers, (I get cold in bed but hate wearing socks... to bed.)  Then I asked if she could knit me knee warmers.  I know what you're thinking but my knees hurt and the wool makes them feel cosy and at least it doesn't feel like bone on bone.  A week later, she drops off knee warmers, which for the last two nights, I have been wearing.... on my arms.  Seriously, this could be a thing, it's genius, you don't overheat but you're cosy and warm when it's actually still quite chilly, it's lovely.

I unintentionally, (I know, annoying,) lost 2lbs this week.  Not sure what's happening.  Could I be finally growing into my own body?  I read everything there is to read about diet and nutrition, but I just seem to be finding my own way.  This week, I haven't done anything out of the ordinary, I'm eating, never hungry, maybe doing a bit extra every night but nothing major, literally 21 x speed skaters with 3kg dumbbells, hardly a life changer.

I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm happy with my body.  I am HAPPY WITH MY BODY.  Don't get me wrong, I still have cellulite and everything could be tauter, tighter, plumper, but I'm in good shape, and if anyone else doesn't like it, that's their tough luck.

Did I tell you that I grated my knuckle?  I bought a fancy, (cheap but sharp) grater, the modern, flat kind not the old fashioned like a box kind.  Anyway, I accidentally, while frantically grating my fresh ginger root into my stir fry, took a chunk out of my knuckle.  It was deep and bled and bled, literally through the night.  It has been ridiculously tender.  Jan gave me no love, Bee offers that maybe I nicked the bone.  Is that possible?  It's been so painful that maybe I did, but it's finally starting to calm down after about six weeks, finally, the pain isn't like an electric shock when I touch it anymore.

For the past four weeks, I've been in dire need of a Carrie day, so today, I am indulging in SATC, The Movie.  Note to self, if ever I am a bridesmaid, I need to be in "Miranda Blue".

I'm still reeling over Grey's but hey, I managed to go on without Cristina... just.

My go-to TV every night for at least one episode is either "Say Yes to the Dress" or "Say Yes to the Dress Atlanta". It washes over you like calming ocean waters.  If I ever was to be a bride, which I'm not, then my guides of choice would be either Sarah or Christiana (and of course Randy,) or Flo or Robyn in Atlanta, (with Lori and the divine Monty.)  It's fantasy and comforting and just lovely.

Brother in law had throat op on Friday, unexpectedly kept in overnight but released on Saturday, on liquid diet for 10 days. He'll be signed off for the duration, this will be quite a challenge for him, he notoriously does not do 'sick days' so we shall see how he copes.

On the plus side, Dear Nephew is expecting to be a Daddy and he brought around the scan pics this week.  I could see it, I could actually see a baby.  I didn't have to oooh and arrahhh at a blob and pretend to be amazed.  This is a tiny weeny human.  I could see hands and feet and a great big head. I could see seven out of eight pics, the eighth did look like a baby goat, which I told him but seven out of eight ain't bad right?

I remember, as clear as if it was yesterday, the day my nephew was born, I ran all the way to my school friend's to tell her that he had arrived.  I remember the very first time I saw him.  His Christening, taking him to the cinema, watching him play football.  And now he's going to be a Daddy.  His parents did such a great job and he will be amazing.

Saturday night was Date Night and every time I think of calling it a day, I have a great time and I realise how happy he makes me. 

Sunday, I catch up with all of the patients, throat op, back op, biopsy, and after having completed all of my housework jobs, I decide to have a lazy, TV catch up day, The Mentalist and Mad Men are calling.

If you are a Grey's fan, do not read on

I love Grey's, I worship at the house of Shonda.  I have invested the last ten years of my life in Grey's, and they have been a significant ten, personally, professionally, Grey's has been there, especially when I needed a good cry.

I have been inspired by the creativity, the bravery, the writing, the acting and the story lines.  It gave me hope, when there wasn't any and I secretly wished, that one day, I may be a, 'married on a post-it' bride.  So romantic, so ideal.

Grey's is clever, witty, excruciatingly real, and it has always told the story of love, whether enduring or fleeting.  Lexie and Mark, Cristina and Owen, Cristina and Meredith, Callie and Arizona, but above all, Meredith and Derek.  Screwed up, headed for Alzheimer's, arrogant, brilliant, strong, flawed and loving... it's Meredith's story.

I read that PD had wanted to leave for a while, and if you want to leave, really leave, then as an actor, surely you would want to go out with a bang?  So I'm glad he did and that nod, to that famous Grey's 'signature scene' was, heartbreaking.

Meredith and Derek had the rocky relationship I always hoped for, faltering, bump ridden, but true and brutally honest.

Christina was my almost favourite character, and I miss her dead pan... everything.

George, Lexie, Mark, left huge, gaping holes, and I know that Grey's went on, but still, this is Meredith and Derek... without Derek.   At the moment, I don't see how it can be as good, but I have faith, faith in Shonda and in Ellen, who will be acting her ass off, if she wasn't already.

End of an era but nothing lasts forever.  I'm in it for the long haul, but thank God for Box Sets.

You're Not Straight

You're not straight.  I'm not?  I could see it as soon as you laid down, your left side is almost normal, for you, the right side is really tight.

My physio is kneading my mid back with what seems like an enormous amount of effort and I can feel myself sinking into the bed.  It's like I'm being pushed into concrete.

I'd already explained that I had been doing extra long days, working through lunch and not sleeping great.  Seems like my back is finally saying, "enough."  I've also been warned off from crossing my legs at my desk, something I know.  I remember my Mum telling me so, so many years ago, that crossing my legs would give me varicose veins.  Well I don't have the vein's yet, but according to Vicki, according to my back... crossing my legs still carries consequences.

I tell Vicki that after finding Ashley Borden on Youtube, I'd checked her out, (amazing body, strong but womanly,) and listened to her advice; "dumbbells... that challenge," and after finding some 3kgs  on sale, I'd gone for it.  They are challenging and I can only do a few reps but I feel like Super Woman and my arms already look better.  I'm thinking of that song, arms connected to the, back bone etc.  Got to help right?

I've resisted weights for years but I'm starting to embrace them, it's all in the head, but I love how they make me feel, I feel strong. Even x1 set of 5 reps, I feel invincible.  You have to take it, wherever you can get it.

Goddess in Love

Who burns frozen veg?  The answer you're looking for, is... me, I do.  However that was two weeks ago and today, I'm Nigella Lawson, on steroids.  I am more than a  domestic Goddess.  Yesterday, I made a kind of pastry-less quiche, which is amazing (just eggs, spring onions, baby plum tomatoes and a little feta, oh and a teensy bit of extra virgin olive oil to stop it sticking.)  Today I'm having to-die-for stir-fry, I have steam mopped the front hall, cleaned windows, mirrors, ironed and sorted out my 'summer draw', that draw whose contents only see the light of day, once a year, if that.

Change of subject, and recently, (last week,) I fell in love with a top.  I know it's ridiculous but I was wandering around Topshop, trying to waste time, when I spied a woman, carrying this gorgeous top in her arms.  I should have just asked her which rack it was located on, but I thought I would put her off the gorgeous top, by asking.  So I trawled around and eventually found said top.  God it's beautiful, and so me. 

However, it's before payday and I cannot, do not have the ability to splurge before payday.  But it is so, so gorgeous. 

I shop with Jan on my day off, which happens to be payday, try on my nearest size, it looks more fabulous than I imagined.  'Get it!" Jan insists, however, it's too big and they don't have my size.  The shop assistant who phoned through to double check stock tells me that they do not have my size, but it really suited me.  Damn it, I'm in love.

So I search the Internet and every store in the Northern hemisphere, but it is out of stock/not available.  Because it's so unobtainable, I want it more.  It really is SO me Col.  I even did that thing, you know how I divide the cost by the number of wears to justify it?  If it cost £40.00 and I wore it four times, therefore it only cost £10.00 per wear, which is a bargain in anyones' book. 

I'm so used to buying things on sale, £36.00 for a top is probably going to give me a heart attack, but I do love it, so much, I think that for once, I may have to throw caution to the wind.

Biggest Loser - Challenge America

Oh boy, Oh boy... Biggest Loser.  I've watched it for years and just when I thought I may have reached the point when I would dip in and out of the latest season, (latest over here anyway,) they only bring back, the amazing... Jillian Michaels. 

This year, the team is additionally challenging childhood obesity.  I swear, if I had my time over again, I would be helping kids to be healthy, I'd be educating about nutrition and I'd hopefully be changing lives.  Maybe next time around.

Tsunami

I'm experiencing  a mini quake, a tremor, a, well... you can decide.  Incoming, major back surgery, incoming bcc, incoming determined shadow on chest x-rays., PET scan, lung biopsy, chemo.  None of these are mine you understand, but belong to those that I love.  You know what it's like Col, it gets you thinking doesn't it?

So, (I know, you don't begin a sentence with 'so', but I'm just talking to you... so...)  All of these people, mean so much to me and  I can't imagine my life, without any of them in it.  I don't want to imagine the alternative.  Most of all, I don't want any of them to go through what they have to go through.

It's a lot to cope with at one time, and I'm holding it together but I have a feeling that the, raggedy seams may not be held together for much longer.  Not without a little bursting anyway.

To compound the situation, my cousin Lyn, my one constant, is currently on a much deserved holiday, on a glorious Greek Island.  I miss her too.

This week, I have watched 'Up In the Air' and 'The Curious Case of Benjamin Button'.  Both films made me think.  'Up in the Air', I found sad, can't tell you why in case you haven't seen it yet, but I totally related.  'Benjamin', was sad too, but there was a line in there somewhere, along the lines of, 'it's never too late, or too early, to start over.'  That really got me thinking.

I believe in God, I believe in visiting this earth for as many times as it takes for you to truly learn life's lessons, maybe to even get it right, although I can't imagine that ever happening.

I read an astrology report, many years ago which said that this was one of my last visits, and for some reason, I believe that could be true.  I do believe I have been here before and yes, this could be my last visit.  Not that I remember any details, but from a young age, I always had that de-ja-vu feeling...  I understand that I probably lost you at astrology report. 

I always have this feeling that time is running out, maybe it is.

So Tired

Tonight, I have had the most amazing dinner.  Green, Red, Yellow peppers, lots of extra virgin olive oil, spring onions, Spanish onion, tamari sauce, fine egg noodles and lots and lots of finely grated fresh ginger.  Even grating my own knuckle and the ensuing, incessant bleeding could not spoil my delicious meal.

The last two weeks have been pretty bad in work.  Major system failure, ensuing rigorous testing, fourteen hour days for the last ten.  I've been trying my best to cope with the stress, the hours, not sleeping and the not eating actual meals, but you know me Col.  I managed to retain my cool until Wednesday, (T-9 days) when I realised I was being a little clippy, that's got to be a record for this Leo don't you think?

Tonight, even the incessant bleeding of the knuckle can't spoil these hours.  My body aches in places I have long forgotten about, I am tired beyond description.  I know that I used to be able to function for longer, on less, and that Super Hero's like doctor's, somehow manage to assail ridiculous hours, but my body, my brain, my heart (judging by my Blood Pressure monitor,) have all  been stretched for the past couple of weeks. 

It's Saturday today.  About two weeks after the work catastrophe.  Left to right, that area straddling my should blades is crying out.  I think it's because I've been pretty much glued in desk position for the past two weeks.  If I die today, they will have to construct a coffin to incorporate the seated at a desk position.

I'm on a water meter and I understand that water is not only costly but precious.  Still, I had such an ache this weekend, I decided that, for probably the first time in around eight years, I would indulge in a bath.

God it was amazing.  I used Epsom salts and lavender oil. I took with me, my iPod and sang my heart out giving my best Julia Roberts's, Pretty Woman impersonation.  It was so relaxing and my skin was so soft afterwards, my heart... so relived.

This Week

What's new pussy cat?  I'll go first.  Hate work slightly less this week, not great, still annoying, still sucks the living daylights out of me.  The weather has been awful, wind you can hardly walk against, icy, heavy rain every time you set foot outdoors, it's draining.

Hair cut went down really well, one of my sister's didn't even notice I'd had a haircut but then colleagues went out of their way to stop and tell me how great it looked and how much it suits me.  I'm mostly thrilled and partly sad that I couldn't rock the unkempt, beachy look.  Maybe I'll do six months on, six months off, just to shock people.

I'm still feeling a little blah, it's Easter and a long weekend, I should be happy and relaxed and carefree, but I'm not.  I really want to curl up, out of the wind, the cold and the rain and I really would like to just hibernate, I have even turned down a date.  I know what you'll say, you only live once, you only regret the things you didn't do or that you should have done, yada yada.  And I've learned to grasp these opportunities but I'm just too curled up in a ball to say "Yes"at the moment.

I finally had a bash at an Ashely Borden, Intermediate Workout, Perfect Form.  It was challenging but do-able, and I had a constructive and encouraging word, every step of the way from Ms Borden, I really like her and I hate to say it but she's motivated me enough to throw in a few moves from now on.

Started watching 'Sensitive Skin'. I love Kim Catrall, have done since SATC, saw her in Antony and Cleopatra, and lets face it, she's local, so what's not to love?  I've only seen one episode so far but really enjoyed it, Kim and the cast are all amazing, (so great to see Joanna Gleason, must be good if she plays a part too.)   It's familiar, thought provoking, really funny in places, beautifully shot, beautifully lit.  I loved it, can't wait for the next ep.

Magic Moments

I continue to spook myself, for the last five days, I've been wondering why Will Young hasn't had a record out for a while, I've always liked his voice, today, he's on the Chris Evan's Breakfast Show promoting his new single.  For the last couple of weeks I've been thinking about my favourite 'Pause for Thought'er', Abdul-Rehman Malik, he hasn't been on the radio for a while and I'm missing his wonderings and musings, which always make me think.  I'm off work today otherwise I would not have heard Will Young, or Abdul-Rehman, on the same radio show... get well soon, Grandma Betty.

I have a sleep in until 6.30 which is blissful, woke with a nose bleed, didn't feel like exercising which I'm slightly annoyed with myself about.  I take my time getting ready for the day then head out for a coffee, hit the GAP sale, (I got a nice pair of jeans, three mini baby grows for my friend's baby and two plain white v-necked t's for £32.00... result.

I food shop, drop off the groceries at home then head out again to get my hair cut.  I've loved my new hair and I've received so many compliments, I'm amazed.  Still, I came to realise that the rate at which my hair grows will mean more frequent haircuts for me to be able to manage it, (which of course means this will cost me more.)  It takes a good fifteen minutes each morning to style, which before 5am, is a lot.  I'm a beachy, unkempt girl at heart but I have to admit, this suits me and at the moment at least, it's worth the effort and the expense.  So, I have gone a little shorter this time, to make it last a bit longer, think... Rachel Green, Friends, Season Seven with the short-short bob. 

I have only just discovered Ashley Borden, trainer to, 'the Stars'.  She has a killer body and seems to be a no-nonsense, down to earth kind of girl... woman, who inspires.  I've done a little digging on Youtube and I like her style, guidance and delivery, so I'm going to try my hand at her workouts.  I'm a little apprehensive though, my Mojo is on it's deathbed and I doubt my healthy self, all the time at the moment.  I'm stress eating crappy foods, (because of work,) and I am Mojo-less, on the workout front.  It's a recipe for disaster darling.

Family by Madonna

Family is really important to me but strangely enough, family is not necessarily your blood, we are raised to think that, but sometimes our family lets us down and we end up creating a new family for ourselves, and family is really people that you know you can rely on, people who won't judge you, people who have your back, people you can trust, people who are loyal, that's family.

Madonna

Never a truer word was spoken.

Super Hopeful

My Super Powers are stealthy yet active again, in small ways.  I text Sheila to apologise for not being in touch for a couple of months and she replies a few minutes later, 'that's so spooky, we were just talking abut you, I came downstairs and your message was on my phone.'

A few days later, Bee and I have been out for a walk and Bee suggests fish and chips for tea.  Bee's favourite chippy isn't mine, but it's fine.  We park on the road and I stay in the car while Bee goes in to order.  As I sit and watch the traffic pass, I wonder if our old friend Alana still lives on this road, thirty seconds later, Alana drives past in a Super Mini.  If only I knew how to tap into my powers.

I've been off work all week, haven't really done much to speak of but have done a heap of Spring cleaning, (even though it's still flipping freezing and doesn't feel one iota like Spring.)  Despite having physio on Monday, I overdid it on Tuesday and so my back has been tight and complaining since then, but I've done as much as I can.  I've steam cleaned the kitchen, shredded about three years worth of confidential waste, thrown out my stock pile of magazines and did a little de-cluttering.  So, I have accomplished quite a bit.  I'm almost down to the micro sorting Col, can you believe?

I have been really quite negligent about taking care of myself so far this year.  I certainly haven't done myself any favours, I have no excuse because as you know, I devour health and nutritional information, I just seem to be on a the  path of self destruction at the moment and I don't really know why.

It's been a relatively mild but long winter this year.  I have had some form of a cold since November and I'm just hoping that despite the smattering of early daffs, once Spring does actually arrive, I'll feel better or at least more motivated to take better care of myself.

With hope in mind, I have spent a couple of months contemplating the Nutribullet, I must have watched the infomercial at least twenty times.  The co-creator is fine, the woman with him is beyond irritating, which is probably why it took me so long to pay attention.

I lost a bit of weight leading up to Christmas, I usually carry a bit extra, but only a bit, so when I lost my appetite and lost some lbs before Christmas, due to the cold symptoms, I looked terrible.  If I'd had the Nutribullet, I would have at least had some nutrition entering my body.

I finally decide to bite the bullet and purchase the....  I arrive at the store with the reference number, input the details, purchase and then wait my turn.  I stand back a little, my number is called and I step forward to the counter, next to a man and his young daughter.

I suspect he's possibly a weekend Dad, it's early on a Saturday morning, they are bright and shiny and waiting to purchase a dolly.  Dad proceeds to shamelessly flirt with me via his daughter... ask the lady this... ask the lady that...  this is a little too direct for me, even via the daughter and so I respond appropriately to the daughter, 'no, mine isn't anywhere nearly as exciting as a dolly, mine is quite boring.'

My purchase arrives and the Dad decides that yep, he'd be quite happy to swap purchases after all. Nooooooo cries the daughter.  I collect my purchase and leave the Dad to his weekend.

I wish men of my age came across as a little less desperate, nothing has a single person heading for the hills faster than the distinct scent of desperation.  Misplaced desperation it may be, but how can you possibly tell?

If it was a little warmer, I'd say I was Spring cleaning

My usual working week is so driven by doing certain tasks on particular days, that I'm struggling to remember what day it is now that I'm off work, but it must be Tuesday because it's my cousin Jayne's birthday today.  It's cool but the sun is shining and we have a beautiful blue sky.

On Sunday, I head out for my usual coffee and reading ritual, returned home to phone JR for an update and then Bee arrived after church.  We headed off to the cinema to see 'Still Alice'.  I'm so glad that Julianne Moore won an Oscar for her portrayal, it was brilliant and moving.  All of the cast were exceptional, it was almost like watching a play, very... intimate and heartbreaking.

Bee and I had a quick bite to eat after the film then we headed home.

Monday, I headed out for coffee, home to make chicken and vegetable soup then headed off for physio.  It's just over eight weeks since my last session and my neck and back have been niggling since I had to sit awkwardly though a pointless meeting, ten days ago.  When I say sit, I mean lean against a desk, the desk was pointing at 2, the information was at noon.  After an hour and twenty, my neck was bothering me.

My brilliant physio is, well, just brilliant.  I love the way she explains everything to me, I love learning... collagen, muscles, joints, fascinating.

I'm home five minutes from physio when Bee arrives and we head out in the cold and damp, with a little light rain, to walk around Ness.  I love Ness but I carefully steer us around the quickest route in case of sudden downpour.  I have so many layers on, I look at least 2 stone heavier than I am, my jacket zipper is straining from the gillet that lies beneath.

Bee has recovered from her chest infection and is buoyant and joyous.  We are not entirely on the same wavelength but we manage to make each other laugh and while she is oblivious to some important nuances, she checks to make sure that she hasn't missed the non existent ones.  Which means she cares very much.

It's Tuesday and I'm sore but I jog anyway, for twenty minutes.  Vicki reassured me yesterday that it's still good for me and even though I don't feel like it, I do it, and love it.

I head out for coffee then return home to take down curtains, steam clean window sills and grouting, take down more curtains, wash curtains, put up curtains, and then I shred confidential waste.  I'm sore, my already sore back is rebelling.  Think I've overdone it a tad.

Wednesday I wake with a sore throat and a very twingey back.  I decide not to jog this morning but instead, take my time getting ready then head out for coffee. 

I return home to shred some more, (I have years of confi waste to shred,) cleared one area of one of the, 'in need of help' bedrooms, and rearrange the kitchen.  I could quite happily never return to work again.

The Best and the Worst

I've had the best two weeks in work recently, the best in the past sixteen months which, when I think about it, isn't good is it?  That means that for approximately the past 72 weeks, I have been unhappy, doesn't that make you think?  This week was one of the worst.  I feel and have felt for a while, unchallenged, unappreciated, taken advantage of, and mostly invisible, which, for a Leo, well, I think my soul is depressed or at the very least, crushed.

I'm now off work for a week, so far, I have spent most of the 22 hours since I left the office, thinking about how much I can't stand work, apart from the time when I was asleep of course.  I'm going to try to get things in perspective, pray that I'm just hormonal, (they are so handy to blame emotions and unhappiness on.) I need to be the embodiment of calm and serenity when I go back and find a way to not go insane with boredom and unhappiness... more insane.

On the bright side, did I tell you that my darling nephew CJ donated his old and unwanted TV to me?  I am so in love, (I love my nephew of course but I was talking about the TV.)  It's like I was blind and now I can see, everything fits where it should, the picture, the information, it's a whole new world and I'm so grateful, see... lucky.

Hot Me

I'm having a hot hair day.  You understand that these are few and far between, so I am learning to acknowledge and embrace them, who knows how many hot hair day's I have left?

I am also in the midst of a lucky streak at the moment.  For the longest time, I've thought that if I didn't have bad luck, then I wouldn't have any luck at all.  But not recently, it's all changed and I'm starting to think that I'm lucky after all.  What if I'm building to an outstanding lucky crescendo?

It's a bunch of little things and you may think that I sound insane but you probably thought that anyway.  A free coffee, a coffee upgrade, a great parking space, a free jute shopping bag, these are little things but they are not the norm and so I acknowledge and thank my lucky stars for each little upgrade.

I've just watched 'Silver Linings Playbook'  and not only did I love it, but it got me thinking.  I have spent my whole life censoring what I say, censoring what words leave my mouth, for fear of upsetting anyone.

I can only imagine how freeing it would feel to be like 'Tiffany' and just speak from the heart.

February Funk

It's Friday and the last 'official' day of my week off.  I haven't met up with any of my sister's while I've been off but I am planning on meeting one of my great friends tomorrow.

I feel in a melancholy mood this week, an emotional, over eating mood, and I have no idea why. Luckily, I've found consolation in homemade chicken and vegetable soup, I can't get enough of it and it's comforting, even though I say so myself, I think I've perfected my recipe.  I was dreading stepping on the scales but I did earlier and I've gained from Christmas when I'd lost weight due to losing my appetite when I didn't feel well, but I'm still only back to 'normal' and no more, which is a relief.  I'm totally misshapen but not overly, over weight.

I am eyeing up Tony Horton's 10 Minute Trainer infomercial but I haven't succumbed yet.  My problem at the moment is not time, but motivation, maybe I should see if I can get myself to workout for 10 minutes under my own steam first of all.

Incidentally, I always have the informercials on in the morning while I'm not watching TV and just pottering about, having breakfast, sometimes working out.  They are currently advertising the most hideous jean-a-like trousers you've ever see in your life.  They seem to be elasticated, all over, spray-on tight and painted to look like regular jeans.  They were bad enough before I realised (that's what glancing with the sound turned down does for you,) that they are fake jeans and stretchy in all places.

So, as I mentioned, it's Friday night and I'm in the company of the dynamic Diane Keaton and the also-not-so-bad, Mr Jack Nicholson, with a name like Jack, how can you go wrong in life?  (Now is not the time to mention the delightful KR, brilliant and if you got the crush-o-meter out, well... I know that he's been within 50 miles of me, gosh dang it.)

I'm watching 'Something's Gotta Give', one of my favourite films and I'm watching it over the incessant barking from next door's dogs.  Barking aside, I think I want to be "Amanda Barrie", with the brilliance, the career and definitely the beach house.  In my dreams anyway.

With the new, swingy hair and the not looking at myself in the mirror too closely, I missed until today, the bruise on my jaw from having my wisdom tooth out, it's either that or I punched myself in my sleep.  Swelling has gone down but still sore and still bruised, not too noticeable though to the outside world.

Saturday, I have a very long overdue catch up with one of my really good friends.  I selfishly confessed that I was really glad to have her all to myself, it is literally years since we've really talked.  Three hours flew by and we probably could have carried on for another three, quite easily. I've made quite a few new friends and acquaintances in the past  twelve months, but after all we've been through, there is nothing to compare to old friends.

Socket to 'em

Didn't sleep well last night.  Just discovered that I lean towards sleeping on the left  hand side of my face, the side I had the wisdom tooth removed from.  No bleeding since I left the dentist, avoiding 'socket' like advised, jaw just achy, and I feel a bit drained.

I went elsewhere this morning, day two of my week off and I needed to purchase a few bits and bobs ready for Harry's return.  I kicked off the expedition with a skinny flat white, at Costa, in the brilliant and warm sunshine.  I had to squint a little, it was joyous, the first warmth felt from the sun, of the new year, pure bliss.  It's still just 2 degrees but that sun made me forget all about it.

Still love the hair, still swingy, still not sure I'll keep it, also noticed as the day progresses, that it expands.  I do feel like a different person though, I feel incognito, it's kind of exciting.

Having said that, bumped into eldest sister in supermarket later on, she didn't even notice the do, maybe it's not that different after all.

Day two of jogging.  I did a gentle 15 minutes this morning, I really have missed my jogging music.  I realise now that it really doesn't do that much for me, workout wise, but I enjoy it and it lifts my mood, so I think I'll keep it for a while.

I feel better generally.  The nights are drawing out, we are heading towards Spring, and I feel renewed and excited for the coming year.  What's on the agenda?  Who knows.  Which is kind of the exciting part.  I'm hopeful for every area but expect nothing, which is what makes it exciting don't you think?

For the past two days, I can't stop staring at the beautiful pale blue sky.  I've decided I love this time of year, I think I may need to book the same time off, next year.

I'm in Hot Water

My lovely friend Sue volunteered her lovely husband Harry to do some small electrical jobs around here for me.  I've been without hot water for about 18 months now, my shower is electric so that was as hot as I wanted, when I washed up, I boiled the kettle, it was like camping, permanently.  In the end, the jobs piled up and I was so fed up of not having hot water, I couldn't take it anymore.  I phoned a local plumber/electrician before Christmas and when he failed to come back to me, Sue very kindly volunteered the very talented Harry.

90 minutes later and I'm staring, in amazement, at the steam, lifting from the water pouring out of the hot tap and into a bowl of soapy water, it's astounding what we take for granted.

So Saturday, the first day of my week off from work, begins beautifully with a workout, a coffee and then hot water, what more could a girl ask for?

Sunday, I'm sore and stiff from my workout, I should have pushed myself to workout again but I didn't, Sunday being the day of rest and all, I chickened out and took the easy option instead, of a slight sleep in and a leisurely breakfast before heading out for my usual coffee date.

It was so great to chat to you on Sunday night, it's always a treat, still miss you so much.

Monday and I rise and jog for just ten minutes but it felt so great.  I know that it's not the best exercise in the world but I really love it and it's been so long, I just knew I would feel better if I dipped my toe into my runners.  With some of my favourite running music emanating out of my iPod, ten minutes whizzed by. 

After coffee, I head for the hairdressers.  I have, too much unruly hair, I can't style it, it's too long and too wide.  I arrive with pictures of the gorgeous and stylish Olivia Palermo, I'm thinking I'd like to try for a long, blunt bob, give it a go and see how I do with it.  My young hairdresser no doubt knows her stuff but she's not great at giving me direction.  I roll up and tell her I really don't know what to do, but what about this, or this?  I don't really get an answer and we settle on a shoulder length bob.  Trouble is, my hair, having a kink or a frizz going on, however you cut it, in reality, it's going to shoot up at least an inch.

I went for Olivia, I ended up with a Dawn O'Porter or an unruly Anna Wintour, (I know, impossible to imagine.)  I love it.  I feel fresh, and swingy.  I don't know if I'll keep it, I need to live with it for a while, but for now at least... I do love it, it's the first totally new style I've had for years.

I have a hearty lunch and before I know it, I'm heading for my dentist appointment to have one of my wisdom teeth out.  I know that it'll be fine but I've been cold all day and had a headache for most of it.  I'm in and out in 40 minutes, I do, as usual, shake like a leaf.  I get to see the tooth and it's ugly, filled and decayed.  Do I want it?  No thank you.  It's being donated to student dentists to practice filling.

It's Monday night and I feel drained and exhausted.  I'll be fine in the morning but for now, it's a large glass of wine and an early night, swiftly followed by a salt water mouth wash in morn.

Jillian Michaels

This week, I went to Jillian Michaels Maximise Your Life tour.  I booked the tickets weeks ago, saw the advert ages ago, tried to recruit at least one of two sisters, failed and thought, stuff it, I'm going to the theatre anyway.  I booked half a day off work, headed home, did a food shop, showered, blasted head dry, had lunch, set sat nav and headed off into the unknown.

So I take my seat and I'm sandwiched between a multi-generational couple, (not a problem with that,) the problem I did have was that from the moment the couple sat down, the female, sitting next to me, whipped out her iPad to scroll through pictures... of herself.... for twenty five minutes.  Do this couple talk?  Ever?  Dozens and dozens of pictures of her, whizzed around like a demented slot machine.  To the right of me were two sisters, we got chatting briefly, one sister had come to support the other, nice work sister.

I was interested to hear what Jillian Michaels had to say.  On 'The Biggest Loser', she came across like a bit of a demon, a demon that melts fat but still.... a screamer.  Then there are the sidebars, someone has a meltdown, a particular meltdown and they have this one to one were St Jillian speaks softly and calmly identifies the problem.

So, I didn't know what to expect, I didn't care, I was just interested to listen.  Jillian Michaels is a dream.  She's normal, she is incredibly funny, she's passionate, down to earth.  She made the effort too.  We're still predominately imperial here and she made the effort to use the language that we understand, (not that we can't convert,) but she used stones and half a stones instead of lbs.  She also used 'crisps' instead of  'chips'.  To me, this means, someone cares about going that extra mile.

Jillian splits her talk into three sections, she covers diet and exercise and then moves on to 'self'.  I love anything that makes me stop and think.  Jillian mentions that we can so easily sleep walk through life, and that is me, for sure.

There was a lot of information to take in and I should really have been talking notes but I didn't want to miss anything by diverting my eyes.

130 minutes later and it was time to head home, I got the feeling that JM could have talked for another 130 minutes however, the show was over and I ran back to the car to get ahead of the queue to get out, it was already well past my bedtime and I still had one more day in work to go.

Did I learn anything?  I did, I learned some things about diet, (I thought I knew quite a bit,) a lot about exercise, I laughed a lot and then I learned to engage my brain and think about me.

I think I'll be on a voyage of discovery until the day I die, and even then, I still won't have truly got to know myself.

I haven't worked out seriously for weeks now but I find myself inspired by Jillian and I have to say, intrigued.  A few days later, I attempt level one of 'shred it with weights', one of Jillian's workouts.  I loved it, I know I didn't give it 100% but I kept it at a level that I knew I could manage, without injuring myself, and I was still 'sore' the next day.  I liked this workout because just when you're starting to think, 'I can't do this for much longer', she changes the move and you start again, 25 minutes flew by.  I also love the idea that I can increase my effort and increase the weight of kettlebell I use as I gain strength.

My mojo is still on the fritz, but I'm working on it.

I Miss My Mum...

I miss my Mum.  Not for the reasons that you think, but I do.  Well, more than likely for 100% the reasons that you think but today, I'm coming from a different angle.

One of the things someone very special to me told me, after they had emigrated, was that they were sorry that their kids didn't have anyone close, from an older generation, in their lives.

I am proof that, whatever your age, it's a gift to have someone older to give advice, to reflect, to spend time with.  Just to bathe in their wisdom and their glow.

I do have people in my life that are older but we have the unique situation in that we are the same, my next generation, are the same, they are my sisters, and the dynamic just isn't the same as with a parent or an aunt.

I long for an old person to be in my life, and I say that with love, I do not intend the word 'old' to be derogatory in any shape or form.

I lost my last 'Aunt' who was a surrogate, a wonderful friend of my Mum's who was well into her 80's, a couple of years ago.  When she left us, my last independent link to Mum and a wonderful.... what's the word for correspondent, but in chatter?  Friend... was lost, I do miss her.

I'm not young anymore, but I feel young to have no one, above me, older than me, wiser than me, caring about me.

On a lighter note, it's your birthday sweetie, and while I think of you often, I've thought of you more this week, trying to factor in the time difference.

I love you, I wish I was there, I hope that you had a wonderful day x

First Week of the New Year

Dear Lord, what a week.  A good break from work, coupled with the festivities, the good cheer, good will... only serves to remind you of how much you hate work, on your first week back in the New Year.

Monday, it wasn't just me, we were all like zombies, just going through the pretend motions and wondering, "Where are we?"  Closely followed by, "What am I supposed to do here?"  The day passed in a haze.

Needless to say that I barely slept on Sunday night, nor Monday night.  I think I slept Tuesday night through exhaustion, it was such a lovely coma while it lasted.

So how am I doing with the resolutions?  I know... you're desperate to ask, well...

Tracy Anderson Butt and Thigh workout - daily .... I did this on Tuesday night and it kicked my....

Grand plié or Demi plié - x21 daily ..... I did this only three times, because I forgot this was on my list, shame on me... it's so good.

Tabata - x3 per week ... give me a break, I managed today, that's all.

Take the stairs in work x3 per week - I work on the 8th floor..... I have a very good reason for not doing this, and I was going to postpone until next week.  But, let me explain, my body was complaining at being back in work.  2 hours a day commuting and 8 per day at a desk had my back and neck complaining without me doing anything extra.  Monday to Thursday I power walked for 30-40 minutes per day, and I could feel it.  On Friday, we had freezing cold and heavy rain at lunch, and so I ventured outside and quickly decided to give the walk a rest and instead, climb the stairs, 9 floors of them.  I was only aiming for 8 as I work on the 8th, however lack of signage and me counting steps distracted me, plus me being less out of breath than I expected, meant that I ended up on the 9th and had to walk back down to the 8th... where my desk lives.  I'll do more next week, at least I got one in for the week.

The Plank x5 minutes per week .... I have no excuse, haven't even tried this week.

Tracy Anderson Arm Exercises, daily x100 per arm...  I totally forgot about this until Wednesday, then I did 100 with weights, which must be at least double the equivalent, then I completed every day for the rest of the week, I do have to say that my arms rock.

I definitely had the blues returning to normality this week, but I powered through, as we all do.

I had physio this week and I was so much less concrete like.  Even my physio was astounded, doubly so after I'd explained between my pre-Christmas lurgy, lurgy then Christmas, I hadn't exercised for a month, and I was still less stiff than normal.  We both agreed that somehow, not being in work, the commute etc. had cancelled out the not exercising so I was actually less seized up than 8 weeks ago on my last visit.  I concluded that I am definitely allergic to work.

It's week one and I would normally be disappointed with my effots but I'm not these days.  I know that resolutions are not all or nothing.  This year I've made them achievable and I'm going to take my time building up to them, this way, I'll still be doing them in November... I may give myself  December off though.  Can't wait for the Christmas break.