And now for something completely different.
It’s that time of the year when I regale you with my success and/or failure in relation to the vague goals I’ve set myself at the same time last year. So, without much ado…
- Write more – yeah, but it was almost all work related.
- Reading – yep. About 25 books. And I’ve eased up on the damn Candy Crush.
- Paper diary – yep. I am SO analogue when it comes to organising myself
- Ditch Candy Crush and be creative – Yep. Crocheted a blanket and I’m a bit over half way through a single bed sized blanket. That’s pretty fucking creative even if I am following a pattern
- Food. Four out of five’s not bad is it? I’ve had a couple of injuries in the last year (back and knee, both of which are heading toward ok), and custard do-nuts.
So there you have them. Five fairly valid “resolutions”, four of which I am continuing on with and the other – well. Taking that a bit more seriously this year because I’ve realised it’s easier to lose enough weight to fit into *all* my short sleeved shirts than buy new ones. Fuck clothing manufacturers suck.
What of 2016?
Well, so far this year, I’ve done three extraordinary things. Ok, they’re not all that extraordinary (more extra ordinary than extraordinary if you know what I means) and the year is barely three weeks old.
- I have not only purchased, but worn shorts. See what I mean about extra ordinary? But I’m a fat middle aged lady and I’m on the tall side, mid-thigh isn’t exactly in the middle of my thigh, more at the 40% from the top mark. And they’re scarlet. So yeah, for me, shorts are extraordinary. Mayhem says they’d be better if they were a little bit longer, but they’re fine. (As an aside, heaven help the future significant others of my offspring. If they ask “does my bum look big in this?” , they’re really going to have to want to know.)
- I’ve also purchased a $150 pair of thongs. Technically, they’re sandals – but hello, slide on shoes with arch support (this kind of thing, only basic black. Apparently they’re so cool, stock is limited), they are still thongs without toe bits. AND I WEAR THEM WITH SHORTS. AND I DON’T NOTICE IF ANYONE’S LOOKING AND POINTING AT THE OLD LADY IN BRIGHT RED SHORTS AND THONGS.
- I finally learned how to drive the Old Car. Ok, that’s not strictly correct – I’ve always been able to drive it. I was just really shit at changing gears in it, and it’s an auto-fucking-matic! I worked out how to use the stupidarse quickshift gear changing thingy. Seriously, it’s not that fucking quick if you have to use both hands to get the fucking thing into reverse. Blokes are all hur hur manly hur hur quickshift, and the laydeez are all muttergrumble who’s stupid idea is this?! Anyway, we were away for the weekend, and circumstances lead to me driving the Old Car around for a couple of hours over the course of the weekend. All I can say is roll on the next cruise night, because move over, Reggie, you’ve created a monster! I’ve even backed it out of car parks a couple of times *and* drove it up the driveway.
While I have been mildly astonished I’ve done all of the above, and they really are quite ordinary things if I look at them through the eyes of other people – wearing red shorts and Birkenstocks, driving a car. Pfft nowt much in it. But for me… they’re all tiny little steps outside of my comfort zone. And I didn’t die of shame or horror or anything.
So, I have decided to DO stuff this year. Doesn’t matter how big (obviously, although the Old Car is fucking HUGE) or how small (don’t think I can get much smaller).
I’m also going to have a red hot crack at losing some fucking weight. I almost cracked the ton late last year which is unacceptable. I’ve dropped back to hideous, which is a good start. However, there’s a (fairly long) ways to go. A friend of mine has lost 17kg in three months, with walking and dieting (low carb, high protein). I can do that. First “goal” is 95kg. And I’m back on Calorie King and everything. No ‘rules’ per se, just lowish fat, aim for a bit more protein than I have been eating, and maybe cut down on the carbs a bit. I’m still walking every day, but I’m going to walk at night as well when it’s not too fucking hot.
Along with the losing weight thang, I have also personally challenged myself to bring my lunch at least once a week. I realised not long ago that I spend nearly $20 a week on coffee alone, about the same on snacks and about $10 a day on buying my lunch. That’s $100 a week I’m pretty much stapling straight onto my arse that I could be spending on much more fun stuff like – I dunno. Getting a dressmaker to make me some fucking shirts. If I bring my lunch once a week, and buy fixings from the supermarket for a couple of days, I could be saving a whole $1,000 in a year – which is more than enough for some bespoke tailored shirts.
And I am contemplating getting back on the Flylady wagon. There’s an entire post in that alone. I’ve almost fallen off a couple of times already and it’s only been a couple of fairly half-arsed weeks. I’ve dabbled with Flylady off and on for about ten years, made some good friends, and maybe as a result, maybe as a complete coincidence, more or less have a cleanish and tidyish house (depending on your definition of cleanish and tidyish, of course. And your definition of Clutter. I was never ready for Hoarders, despite what some close members of my family may think.) The Fylady website is fucking annoying though – there’s this very Hall-mawkish kind of overlay that smears everything with saccharine sweetness and “you can do it” aphorisms that make me do a little bit of sick in my mouth when I read them, and don’t get me started on the ‘testimonials’. (No, I’m not the most romantic soul in the universe.)
HOWEVER, when you strip all the Fly-Things back to the fundamentals and get rid of the schmaltz, the basic structure is GOOD. Break the tasks up into smaller jobs and do them a bit at a time, the job gets done and it’s not so overwhelming. Plus, there’s this whole thing that if I *do* keep up with the bits and bobs I’ve been doing, a) I get more of my weekends back and b) I’m not spending two hours tidying up before the cleaner comes on Friday.
Now, it’s 10.57pm. Part of the Great Weightloss Campaign means bed at 11pm, so I have three minutes to shine my sink and get my arse into bed by 11pm. Ok. By 11.15pm. Baby fucking steps, alright.