It’s the Fly-Way or um. My way.
Ok, last time I posted, I wasn’t sure if my half-arsed success with Flylady was down to not having kids at home for half the week every week in January, or whether progress was actually being made toward my year of getting shit done and no longer living in a cesspit. Ok, it’s not that bad – there’s no pools of raw sewage dotted around the joint. But this last couple of weeks, I’ve been living in chaos. I’m talking *actual* chaos, as distinct from the Fly-definition of chaos which is “Can’t Have Anyone Over Syndrome” – people could come over, 85% chance of a chair, just there was just a fair chance I’d gibber at them.
So yeah, still not sure whether I’m having any success with the Flying palaver – last week’s Zone was the entrance and dining room. Now, the entrance to my house consists of an area rug and a box of shoes behind the door. I’ve been looking for a nice console table for oh, thirteen years. Or a nice cupboard to keep shoes in. But it takes a whole thirty seconds to put into order. Mainly by picking up the shoes next to the box and putting them back in!
The Dining Room has been a designated No-Fly Zone for the last month with Reg using it to run his bit of an epic event he’s been involved with for the last six months. Said event was last weekend, and he’s pinky promised that will be his last one for a couple of years. Of course, come August, he’ll most likely get suckered back into the vortex again. I will not be well pleased if this happens.
So we’ve had stuff and that left, right and centre culminating in us being out of the house for the vast majority of the last two weekends – Yay for having a social life but bloody hell, I actually do a lot of shit on the weekends. And when I’m not home to do it – that leads to delegating a metric fuckload of stuff to the week. That same week where I work every day and get home at six and attempt to cook a nutritious and delicious meal for the family from my carefully constructed meal plan and spend some time on my delightful craft work. Ahem. We’re drifting off into Fantasy Land territory. You’ve seen what my meal planning looks like. And we all know when I’m tired, it’s Candy Crush all the way.
I digress. As always. Anyways, I did take on board the Flylady do a load of washing a day thang last week. Can I just say I have NEVER had so many odd socks in my entire life. Ever. Normally, I have three odd socks, never the same three so I just chuck them back in and they meet their pair (or similar. I am not a sock purist. As an aside – in the early days of our relationship, Mrs Reg very helpfully suggested that I pop a wee bit of coloured cotton on each pair Reg’s virtually identical socks so I knew which ones belonged together. After I collected myself from the floor and ceased the very literal rolling about laughing, I told her that Reg was suitably grateful he got two socks of roughly the same length more or less folded and put in his sock drawer. If we have two more or less the same socks – eh, they a pair). I was heading for the same this week as well, however, Mayhem was poorly yesterday morning so I stayed home and did the fucking washing instead. And did the really have to do this or the world as we know it will in fact come to an end type stuff (like planning and bill paying and minimalist food shopping.)
As you can probably imagine, last week’s meal planning didn’t so much involve planning as pinning someone to the ground with a firmly placed knee to discover approximate locations and meal requirements for the week, so at least the kids were fed. Throw in kids being back at school and sport starting again, and I just threw my hands in the air and hoped for the best.
Dieting has gone a bit to the shitter as well, however on the positive side, I still weigh less than I did when I started. I’m back to calorie counting and exercising again from tomorrow (chiro treatment last night means the back v knee battle is loud and proud – if the back is great, the knee hurts like hell and vice versa. By the way, while my knee is better than it was, it was six months on Friday and it’s NOT BETTER YET. Apparently cumulative injuries have cumulative recovery periods, and it will be another three months. And drugs. Drugs are good, m’kay. And yes it was the sore knee firmly placed on Reg’s chest whilst determining his movements for the week. Mistake.) I’m planning to slip in a massage later on in the week to sort out the excesses of the weekend. Bit too much waterslides and driving in circles for one weekend.
Anyway, this week’s meal planning (such as it is) is straight from the freezer – determined by what’s on top. Last night, we had lasagne. Tonight, crumbed chicken and vegies and tomorrow night will be (insert fanfare whilst I quickly get some meat out of the freezer) something to do with mince and a bone for the doggie. I’m thinking potato pie, and the kids can suck it up. Looking forward to Thursday – I see bacon and eggs in our eating futures, and Friday is possibly going to involve more dog bones. I may have to dig more deeply.
I’m planning to give the Flylady a half arsed crack for the next four weeks, and see what happens – using my Zones rather than hers because seriously, I can’t wait another month to sort out the damn dining room!