Balancing Precariously

'The Lord giveth and he taketh away'

Well, despite the fact that I'm a little shaky on the Lord's existence, I can certainly confirm that when your up don't worry because you are about to come down.

Today I gained 4 pounds.  Well not today.  But this week.  Yay.

But then I had a phone call from a very nice man called Spencer telling me he'd seen my CV and had a job that he thought I would be great for.  And the role sounds awesome.  So the downer becomes an upper.  Yay me!

And then....

I get a letter from Halifax.  Apparently because I've nearly cleared my credit card and they've been reviewing their credit card accounts they've decided to increase my interest rate by 5%.  WTF???  I've struggled to clear this card down, I've made two late payments - still made them just slightly late - and apparently that means that I deserve to be penalised because very soon I won't have any money owing and the bank is going to miss out on squeezing me.  It's insane.  Bastards!!!!!!! 

So now I'm waiting for the good.  You know the balance.  The up.  The Yay.  Waiting.....

I cook for you, we eat

I love food, I love cooking but I tremble at the thought of cooking for others.  I turn into a (more) obsessive, paranoid, worried grasshopper as I panic about the taste, the look, the consistency, the temperature and then I have to monitor reactions and demand feedback instantly.

Over time it becomes easier to cook for people as you begin to realise they are not going to throw a strop or refuse to eat a morsel and you become more adventurous and all is well.  But then you  have to cook for children.  And cooking for children is a whole different ballgame.

I would think nothing of whipping up a curry or a bolognaise or even a shepherd's pie for my beloved but I would I feed it to his kids?  No.  No.  No.  No.  No.  I cannot bear the criticism, I cannot stand the pushing of morsels around the plate, the fake (?) retching sounds, the 'I don't like, I don't like, I don't like' chants from either end of the table.  And there is nothing I can do because I am not the boss of them, I just have to take it on the chin and make amendments to the internal list of likes and don't likes.

She will eat every vegetable under the sun but no this, no that, no the other - he won't touch any vegetable under the sun except for this, that and the other.  Chips, chips, chips and chips could be the easy way out but on a day ending in 'y' she loves jacket potatoes however then on a day ending in 'y' refuses to eat one.  He complains bitterly that there is no corn on the cob for him yet last time ran away from the yellow beast.  One is fruit fiend and gains a 5-a-day medal every time, the other is a chocolate monster and rarely makes 1-a-day if you are lucky.  Home-made burgers are eaten with a relish by one but not by they other because they look funny yet they will devour the bolognaise whilst the other pushes it round and round and round and round. 

I literally go into a cold sweat everytime I have to plan a meal.  I'm taking on the nutritional well beings of three people never mind myself and I must must must avoid the call of the fish finger and oven chips.

And so, it is with great pride and a sense of enormous well being that I can report - last night's dinner was a success and every morsel was eated.  Good quality sausages, mash, magic beans (baked) and home-made Yorkshire puddings.  It may not be top of the nutritional tree but it had all the food groups, a five-a-day, three happily stuffed grasshoppers and one very proud mama hopper!

Tight Jeans

Groan - Christmas has made my jeans tight.  It wasn't me.  I was going to exercise, everyday there was a new plan and there was running and swimming and stuffs yet my jeans are tight.  It wasn't me.  I cook healthy meals and am conscious about my five-a-day.  Occasionally treats like cinnabon just jump into my mouth yet my jeans are tight.  It wasn't me. The mantra for the new season of the Biggest Loser in the US is no excuses.  But it really wasn't me I tell you - it wasn't, it wasn't!!!  Oh OK.... it was.

When I was a wee slip of a thing, around the 17 year mark, I weighed just under 9 stone which I admit is a little under what I should be.  Can you believe at the time I thought I was fat??  I looked in the mirror and I thought I had wibbly bits and wobbly bits and even waggly bits.  I read all the magazines and listened to all the media spin telling me that less was more and that skinny was better and really skinny was really, really good.  And then I relationshipped and in the next 10 years, I gained just over seven stone.  That's almost a person.  In fact it is my sister.  I became a blob of grossness.

It's difficult to comprehend the impact severe weight gain has on an individual.  It destroys your entire being, your self esteem, your confidence and creates a fundamental image of yourself that you struggle to shake off.  The story gets better, a few personal disasters later and this cat is looking at the slim old end of a 4 stone weight loss, almost all the way there - just another couple of stone to go and she's back to business.  But as with all well laid plans, there is disaster in the making and things never, ever, never go to plan.  Gain 2 stone and those jeans are tight once more.  And it wasn't me!!! 

Dammit. 

You remember me

Hearing from an old friend after a long time has passed really soothes the soul - not only did they remember you, they also liked you enough to get back in touch.  You would think with the modern technology era it would be easier than ever to keep in touch and in some ways lurking in the background on Facebook does allow you to see what everyone else is doing without speaking to anyone.  But I think the modern spin leaves a little to be desired.  Many people have stopped ringing their mates just for a chat - these days it is more likely to be MSN conversation whilst watching TV, eating dinner and checking your email all at the same time.

It is nice to be remembered.  It is even nicer to know that there could be an actual meeting of two physical beings where you can look the other person in the eye when you speak to them and you don't have to say lol every five minutes.  Unless of course you are so sucked into text speak that you have lost any grasp on the English language that you might have previously attained.  Let's have tea and toast.  Such a quaint idea, such a lovely thought - the kind of thing that one can imagine the famous five scampering off to do.  A nice catch up, where we can explain all about our lives this past year and how and why they didn't work out the way we thought they would, or indeed describe in plentiful detail the wonderful outcomes as well as expand upon our optimism for what the future may bring.

It makes me want to reach out to other friends who are drifting on the end of a string.  They know I'm here, I know they are there and quite often life gets in the way to prevent that casual get together, even harder if you have moved away from each other.  But there is nothing so indomitable as the human spirit so just try and keep us down!  I think this year should be the year when the hand written note takes the place of the electronic mail, the phone call replaces the online chat window and tea and toast become a united symbol of friendship as two people - living, breathing, actual people spend some actual time with each other and catch up. 

Welcome 2012

I figured it out.  My fellow hopper can't understand why I am so happy and smiley since I spent the better part of last year either crying or sunk into a pit of depressed depression but I've realised what it is.  I don't have to go back.

I quit my job without a shiny new one to go to because I was being silently bullied into the ground.  I was a mess.  I was paranoid and withdrawn, spending 8 hours at work without saying a single word to anyone.  I was miserable when I came home and miserable when I went to bed and miserable when I woke up.  I would literally have thrown myself down the stairs if I thought it would have got me out of going to work.  I cannot describe the utter despair I felt on Sunday afternoons when the weekend was nearly all gone and you realise you have to go back.

I am so happy to be in 2012.  Happy to coin a phrase and make a new start.  I've never been overly ambitious - I like a job to be insanely busy and have the opportunity to chat, chat, chat with fellow worker bees plus a little socialising on the side would suit me down to the ground.  Money really isn't an issue.  Well I mean, the evil governmental forces make it so I have to earn a bare minimum to cover certain costs but for me, it's not about the amount of moolah - it's all about the enjoyment factor.

I see 2012 as a great place to begin feeling happy again and I hope you do too xx