Thirty-Two And A Spinster - Part Eight

Acting Your Age

It was my actual birthday this weekend. I started celebrating on Thursday by going to see one of my favourite artists perform, #LucyRose.

Doors opened at 7pm, so I met up with my sister and a couple of gigging buddies at the venue. Drinks flowed freely, as did lots of random stories and so much laughter. It was an all round great night and Lucy's performance was as expected, top notch.

I was so stoked to wake up the next day to see she'd favourited one of my tweets :)

Anyway, Friday morning I felt a tad vulnerable.

It felt like the longest day of my life. I forced myself into work earlier than usual to make breakfast, which went down easily, but from that point I just felt like I kept slipping into a black hole of exhaustion - OLD age catching up with me!

But it didn't stop there, oh no! Friday nights we have drinks at the work bar so I stopped there for a couple. I'd managed to arrange a date for the evening, and as I'm sipping my wine getting all excited, who should walk in the door?! Mr Distraction!

I knew he was back in town for visa purposes but everyone who knew about me and him, were now looking to me for a reaction. (Things did not end on a good note).

For the hour that I stayed, we made NO eye contact, which is completely retarded behaviour... but it appears is the norm for us. I guess for me, I just don't know how to act around him when we're with people from work. Apart from a couple of my friends, no one knows.

And the date? No comment. Waste of my time! He didn't look like his picture and he had a sweating problem. This is my love life?!

*le sigh*

Have you ever seen those cards that are designed to look like they are from your "vices"?

A popular one is:

Well, after all the drink in my system from Thursday night and the Friday top ups, the no dinner and then suddenly messages from Mr Distraction.... my card would read:

"Oops, there goes my shirt up over my head, oh my"

What the f**k am I doing?! 

Dancing In The Rain

Saturday morning I met up with my friend for our first Zumba class together in Camden. We found it as a deal on Groupon and needed a kick start to our Bank Holiday weekend.

Five minutes in and we were sweating, panting and counting down the hour. F**k Tough Mudder, this class was an INSANE workout! But we left feeling on top of the world, ready for Carnival on the Monday.

As you'd expect from British weather, the day I was due to dance in the street wearing next to nothing it rains.

I woke up yesterday morning after a shocking nights sleep, feeling exhausted and lazy. Having stayed over my friends house so we could go to Carnival together, we both sat on the sofa bed staring out at the bleak weather feeling less than motivated to leave the house. 

The general consensus was that we'd stay home or go bowling, but at some point during breakfast we were convinced by her boyfriend that even if we went for an hour, we should make the most of the opportunity, after all we'd paid for the privilege of dancing within a secured area, unlimited alcoholic drinks and snacks. 

Donning our outfits, plus an extra t-shirt and hoodie, we ventured out into the cold - the rain had stopped. Our spirits high, we got to Kensal Rise within 45 minutes of leaving the house. Unfortunately by the time we'd got there it was raining HARD. 

We'd took shelter underneath a shop canopy and waited for the rain to ease about 15 minutes. I was tempted to go home. In fact I announced it a couple of times. I said my goodbyes and was about to leave BUT, for some unknown reason, I changed my mind and we continued on. 

Music, alcohol, laughter and lots of dancing! 

We were soaked through but I wouldn't have changed it for the world! 

Ready For The Road

Do you ever say you'll do something with someone and then find yourself regretting it?

I'm asking myself this question right now as I stare at the costume I'm supposed to be wearing to the Notting Hill Carnival on Monday.

I'm not in the best shape and yet I have signed up to an event where I'm expected to wear next to nothing and I only have myself to blame.

I got home and unpacked the lime green back pack I've paid for... 

Short ass shorts - CHECK

Unflattering boob tube - CHECK

Respectable over top with jewels - CHECK 

Condom - CHECK, wait what? A condom?! WTF are they expecting me to get up to on the streets of Ladbroke Grove? 

The worst thing? I have always thought I had a decent butt. However these shorts have shown me the error of my ways. I must get it from my mum ;) 

So if you're hitting the carnival this weekend, look out for the flat-arsed blue vision with tons of drunken courage! 

Sneaky peek ... 

Hopeless Romantic

The door opens and then closes heavily a couple of seconds later.

The sound of keys dropped in a glass bowl resound and I hear her footsteps progressing towards the front room, where I'm sat watching television. But I'm now looking at the doorway, waiting.

I can tell from her stride that she's had a couple of drinks; and suddenly she there, smile on her face and cheeks a little flushed.

We catch eyes and laugh. She stumbles over to where I'm sitting and flops down on the sofa next to me, resting her head on my shoulder.

"Are you in love?"
"I'm in love Amy."

Said at the exact same time, we giggle together. This has happened a couple of times. It's a harmless inside joke, that after a couple of drinks on a date she's in love. Rose tinted glasses working their magic on life, making it all seem so wonderful.

I envy it.

I'm having a hard time not to feel jaded towards the idea of love at the moment. I know what the real thing feels like and I guess I'm still clinging to it.

They never last though, these dates. After the second or third, the novelty has worn off. But that first date :) it even brings me a tingle of excitement and I'm not the one going on it.

#NeverGiveUpOnLove

21 Days to Tone and Sculpt

Gearing up to Summer, magazines and online sites are full of regimes that promise you a body worthy of walking through the busy streets of London / New York / {Insert City Name Here} in just a bikini & heels.

I have friends readying themselves for holidays abroad, big birthday events, weddings, etc and all they are talking about is 'slimming down', 'toning up' or 'detoxing', and that's pretty much ALL I'll be hearing or talking about for the next few months; until the nights begin to grow colder and we start to cover ourselves up again.

I have exactly 3 months to improve my fitness levels for Tough Mudder and though at the start of the year I was making good on this, my fitness routine has left me feeling rather stale of late; that and the boozy, take-away laden bank holiday weekends.

I'm not consistent enough and I LOVE my carbs - simple & complex. Fact is, I'm eating too much and working out (weight-training) too little.

So I'm setting myself a mini 21 day work-out experiment/challenge.

It's made up of both cardio and weight-training exercises, 6 days a week with one day off to rest. Day one starts today with some interval running and light stretching.

It's a fad regime, I'm aware of this. It's also not something that you can realistically maintain, but like I said, it's an experiment. I want to see if it actually works, and more importantly, if I can push myself to do it - EXACTLY as it states, no slacking.

Less alcohol - No crap - No more excuses!

More water - More vegetables - More effort!

After I've successfully completed this 'quick fix', I need to bump up the 'warrior' workouts at the gym from 0 to 2, and run 10k twice a week because I'll have just under 12 weeks until I have to prove myself.

AND I WILL NOT DIE ON THAT COURSE!

Thirty Plus Blues

Last year I got a card that said 'Good Old Flirty Thirties' but in reality, my thirties are anything but.

Over the last couple of days another year has been added to my life and I've taken a moment to review the last 12 months... what a palaver. I really need to stop talking about getting a grip on my life and actually DO IT.

It's time to stop living in my overdraft, dreading Mondays because I have to go to work, complaining about the state of my waistline, wishing a lottery win would solve all of my problems.

I've set myself a high goal of getting my butt to the gym four times this week and NO alcohol consumption. As much as I enjoy hearing all the funny things I said or did at our Friday night after work drinks at lunch on the following Monday, I don't enjoy how the hangover takes over my entire Saturday or that it slows down all progress I'm making on the fitness front.

My friend and PT set me a task last week of texting him my fitness goals for the week, all which I met. So Sunday night before bed, I text him my list for this week in an effort to feel accountable to someone. They were:
No added sugar (except fruit)
60 second plank every day
15 push ups every day
4 cardio workouts
2 weight sessions
Read 2 modules of my CBT course

So far I've not really delivered on any. I usually do the push-ups and plank at night before bed but last night, after a small slice of homemade carrot cake, I fell asleep reading my kindle. So I failed on the first 3 goals on my first day... I'm going to the gym tonight though and I will KICK some butt to make up for being lazy! Except I've agreed to meet an old friend on Thursday for a Krispy Kreme.... damn it!

Emotions

When something amazing happens to you, you're naturally sad when it's all over. It was like a flashback and I revelled in it, enjoying every second.

Like the last few warm rays of sunlight caressing my skin, I closed my eyes and felt the tingle spread from head to toe.

And though that light has gone and I'm left in the shadows; the chill bringing goosebumps to the surface, my arm hairs standing on end, a smile lingers on my lips as the memory replays in my mind.

Though you cannot start reading the next chapter if you keep rereading the last one, it's hard to forget someone who gave you so much to remember.

Today the sun is shining and it's a new beginning - for us both.

I've plans for a little wine this evening, lots of laughter and dancing with friends old and new. I feel as though Spring has blessed me with a touch of her love.

“It's spring fever. That is what the name of it is. And when you've got it, you want — oh, you don't quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so!” 

Mark Twain

Under the weather

What does that even mean? Whatever it is, I feel it.

Maybe it's the shock of doing serious exercise or the dramatic reduction in 'crap' but my body just cannot handle it. I'm annoyed though because I had a flu jab before Christmas and suddenly I'm experiencing flu-like symptoms.

When will winter be over?! I'm done with the dark, cold, the wet and windy - unless that's the name of an awesome cocktail. In which case, I'll be seeing you in February ;)

I can see why people who vow not to touch a drop to drink throughout Jan as a New Year's Resolution fail miserably and end up rob ably drinking more in the first 2 weeks of Jan than they did all of December. It's a crappy month. It's dark, you're back at work, you're broke because of Christmas, the weather is shite, etc

But don't lose hope.

If you are on that 'Dry Jan' journey like me, and have found yourself succumbing to winter weariness, treat yo self!

Schedule in a few evenings or days in the month where you do something for you. Be it time to soak in the bath reading a trashy novel, pampering yourself with a face steam/mask (boys too), doing your nails, watching your favourite programme or films back to back.

Turn off your phone. Log off Facebook/Twitter/Instagram/Tinder/POF and relax. Instead of that boring piece of chicken breast for dinner, grab a steak. Do something you love but feel you never have time for. Summer will soon be around, your social calendar will fill up and you'll really have time for yourself.

Use these annoying dull days to do something for you - even if that's planted to the sofa recovering from a stupid cold like me *sniff*

Having trouble sleeping…

I go to bed at a reasonable hour, I lie awake for - god knows how long because I don't want to check my phone - I listen to the sounds of traffic coming from the road below me, and I wait. I've invested in an eye mask to keep the light out, I've stopped drinking caffeinated tea after 6pm and I've not had a drop of alcohol for 3 days.

Three weeks of high fat, high sugar indulgence is showing it's ugly head, and messing with mine. So I have to be careful with what I eat until my sleeping habits return to normal because not only does sleep deprivation literally mess with your mind but it seriously screws with your appetite as well.

When deprived of sleep, the body produces more ghrelin, a ”hunger hormone”, that increases your desire to eat… and eat… and eat.

Simply by getting enough sleep your body will better regulate those hunger cues all on its own, which will make it easier for you to moderate your consumption of any tasty, but pesky, leftover holiday treats that have managed to sneak their way into your office.

Moral of the story… Sleep more, snack less. Sleep more, weigh less.

Amen!

What happens at the Xmas party.... stays at the Xmas party

Monday morning!

First day back after the work's Xmas party and everyone is in high spirits trying recall, through the drunken haze and a weekend of recovery, whether anything juicy happened.

There was a lot of drinking, that's for sure, dad-dancing, a spot of apple knobbing, and not so secret snogging. The hog roast was finished before half the staff could eat so Domino's to the rescue!

Lost count of the number of glasses that were broken, someone was sick on the couch in reception and one of the waitresses tried to make off with 3 bottles of wine.

Everything gets hazy after about my 4th glass of wine, and that's after I'd had 3 glasses of prosecco on a practically empty stomach.

I just remember dancing like an absolute loon, walking half-way home crying because I was cold and probably far too drunk to be walking alone, snacking on a MASSIVE packet of wotsits, and then collapsing into bed - make-up still on, smudged down my cheek.

Saturday was not pretty - urgh, I'm too old for this nonsense.

Brand New Start, Same Old Nonsense

I've moved - YAY! The last weekend of November 2013 was a hectic weekend of lugging boxes and personal affects, cleaning and furniture window shopping. I am still truly exhausted.

There were no tears but I did feel melancholy. I mean this is my life for the next year at least, and if I'm honest - I still hoped, you know? So I've got a new routine to get used to, new people to learn about and a new future to carve…

The countdown to the end of 2013 has begun. I'm making a note of 12 things I want to achieve/experience in 2014, one for each month of the year. So instead of New Years Resolutions, which I'll break within two weeks, I'm treating myself to 12 awesome activities.

I'm planning to have fun and let loose in 2014 - start really enjoying my life.

Friday night I was supposed to go out for a drink... with a boy. I was fretting about this because deep down I know I'm not over him but, as my friends have been saying, I've got to start somewhere.

Anyway, I was kind of excited. I'd spoken to this fella a couple of times during the week and he seemed really NORMAL and nice, why shouldn't I be excited? We were going to meet after work for a drink in London Bridge, as it's half way between our respective homes, but he bailed on me last minute; something to do with work. He suggested we meet on Sunday instead, 'I'll make it up to you' he said.

Now, I had a busy day Saturday.

I walked into Camden (I can do that from my new place) with my housemate Mel, we wandered around the market for a bit before she had to head back and I had rush around to buy some running gear. I had arranged to meet my old housemate/landlord that afternoon for a catch-up and to return my keys, then I was due to head down to Brixton for drinks with a colleague and friend.

I got in really late, swaying and glad I'd made the effort. Laziness would have had me staying in alone instead of socialising with new fun and friendly people, but I won this battle. So yesterday morning was a struggle.

Row, one of my other housemates, and I went to a vintage fair, enjoyed tea and cake, and then did a spot of shopping in Hampstead. I'd exchanged a couple of messages with this matey-boy but there was no mention of meeting up. It was his suggestion and he didn't even bring it up.

I just can't be bothered with that nonsense. I'm not looking for anything serious so I'm not fussed by it, just can't stand people wasting my time. So I stayed in and cooked a chicken curry for me and Row to enjoy. We stuffed our faces (she also bought naan bread and poppadoms) whilst watching X-Factor, followed by I'm a Celebrity and then Jess came home with 2 boxes of 12 Krispy Kreme's - OMG.

I had two. No wonder I couldn't sleep last night - on a sugar HIGH.

No time to excuse-ercise

I've gotten lazy.

I used to walk to and from work every day without fail through rain, sleet and proper snow. For the last 2 months I've taken a bus every day. It's been an added expense when really I could have flipping walked. Now I'm moving further away and I'll HAVE to get public transport, I'm kicking myself for not making the most of the opportunity.

I managed to get myself into a routine of hitting the treadmill and doing a little strength training 2-3 times a week AND eating healthier - as opposed to not eating at all, which was the case in September.

How is it possible to lose your fitness mojo when just yesterday it was SO strong?

So this is my vow: I WILL go to the GYM or a 20-30 minute run 3 times a week AND walk at least half of my journey into, and home from, work.

It's a start.

I don't want to fall back into the rut I found myself in earlier this year where I couldn't be arsed to do ANYTHING, except moan about how unfit and fat I thought I was. Jesus, no wonder he bloody dumped me :) - I know, poor humour.

My gym stuff is here (at work) with me today and I'm in two minds to hit the tread instead of staying behind for a couple of drinks with guys from the office and treat myself with 15 minutes in the sauna.

Then again I could do this tomorrow instead, if I'm not moving - and here we go again…

Oh no you didn't - yes, yes I did *hangs head in shame*

It's been a drunken, emotional weekend; and I had my first EVER experience of a drunken text to the ex :/

I was swaying in the middle of an O'Neill's pub after enjoying a fun and fancy-free evening at my cousin's 18th; my state sponsored by Captain Morgan's and coke. I don't know why but I just suddenly started to miss him. I knew then and there that I needed to stop what I was drinking and head home, home for that evening being my mum's couch.

I jumped into a cab, mum in tow, stumbled out of my dress and heels and collapsed on the sofa. Even as I was writing the text, I could barely see it, I knew it was a BAD idea and yet I still ploughed through the pain of double vision and sent it.

Sleep swept me off into oblivion for a few hours but I woke up feeling physically sick at my weakness and of course, I've received no response - not that I expected one.

I got a text from a flat I really wanted to say, oh what a surprise, I didn't get it.

Then last night my housemate accused me of 'taking my eye off the ball' because I've forgotten to throw out the empty toilet roll once or twice and I don't stand around all night listening to him witter on about stuff I don't find interesting. I NEED to escape.

SO not happy right now :(

Dear body, I'm so proud

Dear body,

I'm so sorry for this weekend. I've abused you :(
BUT we had fun though didn't we?
I thoroughly enjoyed the dancing we attempted, no achieved!
You were a badass and all eyes were on you, even if they were wide with horror at the shapes you were throwing around.
Totally awesome.
However, yesterday... I'm just sorry.
I know you felt awful but I tried to help by hydrating you with plenty of water, although I suppose the 10 biscuits dunked in coffee, the Haribo sweets, Krispy Kreme doughnuts, and Chedder crackers didn't really help.
I'll do better.
Tonight we shall Salsa and we'll take a nice little break from alcohol this week.
I promise to visit the gym at least twice and feed you healthy, nutritional meals.
After all, we've got a big day coming up.

Don't freak out, we've got this.
We'll do our best and we'll have a laugh, and when we get to the finish line we can say
"I did that!"
It'll be our first achievement in this new chapter for us.
Can I just say, you've done me proud.
You've shown me a strength I never knew I had.
We've come a long way over the last couple of months, I know it's been hard on you too but you've never given up :) so I thank you.

We are on our way baby!

All my love,
me
x

Don't forget to be AWESOME

A quiet period? That's what he's told people, that we're having a quiet period…

I'm not sure that I like that description. I feel like it belittles what is actually happening - that I'm having to force myself into a new mindset, one that doesn't include him and to do that I need some freaking space.

What a prick. Quiet period indeed!

Honestly the more this goes on, even when he's not doing anything particularly different to before, I feel like bitterness is taking over me. It's like that black stuff in Spiderman 3.

And then, when I feel comfortable with the fact that I'm not in touch with him, he pops up on my phone to see 'how my week's been'; projecting himself back in my life, WTF?!

And suddenly those bad feelings are right back at my door. Transference is a bitch. Transference: “the redirection of feelings and desires toward a new object.”

There's a really funny scene in Two Can Play That Game that explains what I'm talking about but I couldn't find a clip :( It is FUNNY though.

Non-stop banter with the colleagues, lots of laughter at their hangovers and a pizza for lunch has left me in a much better mood for the beginning of the weekend. So happy it's Friday. Now I'm off to share some quality time with some loved ones.

Final thought of the week: Heartache is a B***H

Seven days (Day 6)

I wake up, exhausted. There's light shining through my curtains but it sounds like its raining. I was planning on going out for a run. I don't want to go anywhere in this weather but I have a schedule to keep. 

So he did message me after all. I read it once my eyes have adjusted to the world again. Why am I so tired? 

Even though its raining, I'm trying to think of ways I could go without getting too wet, or more to the point, without getting my new trainers and iPhone wet. 

I tidy my room as I wait for my housemate to get out of the bathroom. Once he is, I'm in and out like a shot, gym gear on and old trainers for the walk. It's not that warm out and there's a breeze that chills you to the core. 

I manage 5 miles on a random programme but I walk the last fifteen minutes and feel like a bit of a failure. I walk home, looking forward to my shower. The house is empty so I put on the radio, letting it play whilst I'm washing my hair. I put on a load of washing and paint my toenails as I wait for it to finish. 

I'm not going to make it to Camden and back in time for my wax appointment so I take the time to epilate my legs, paint my finger nails and relax. I'm not meeting him till five pm now anyway. 

I wear my new paisley dress with my blue converse (the ones I won in Bidding Wars) throwing a denim jacket over my shoulders as it's breezy out. The wax is painful and I end up with a lot less than I expected - can anyone say Hollywood?! A misunderstanding which I pay for in more ways than one. 

I'm waiting around forever because he's pushed the meeting time back half an hour and it's now that I realise I haven't eaten anything. I grab a portion of chips and walk around Brick Lane for a bit. It's getting cold so I decide to head towards the flat anyway, I still know the code to get in the building an if I need to I'll wait in the hallway for him. But as I near the block of flats he texts me that he's home.

Here we go...

We're drinking beer as he eats and already I want him. I'm sitting in the front room watching TV whilst he's in the shower. Now I need a wee. My left foot is aching, probably from all the exercise and running I'm doing now that I never did before. Shock to the body, I guess. He kindly performs some MAT on my foot and ankle, which makes a massive difference in the tightness I am feeling. Now the right needs some work :)

Turns out he's got the wrong date and the gig's in a month's time. I'm thinking I should go home but I don't, I stay because I miss him and this is an opportunity to not be alone. BUT, to get through tonight I've got to stop thinking about him as my ex and see him as my friend; we're just going out for drinks. It's hard.

Even as we're walking down the street towards a bar, I'm aware of the distance between us. We stop at traffic lights, waiting for them to change and we're literally people apart. A stranger looks at me and then him and I feel as though he knows... this is not an awkward first date, it's an awkward break-up get together.

When we get to the entrance of the bar, we're actually pretty hungry again. There's plenty of places to chose from but we end up in The Diner. It's here I let my guard slip. He lets on that he's been too busy this week to think about things - I don't say this but my mind is screaming:

I NEVER STOP THINKING ABOUT THINGS

Here's where we differ. Here's where I should pick up my big girl panties and move on, never to look back, but here's where the wounds of my heart start to weep because he's getting on just fine without me.

Dinner ends on a bum note but we walk back to the bar anyway. He asks me if I actually want to go in as we're waiting in the queue outside, and I'm torn between running home to cry or taking my friend's advice: Go out and have a fabulous time. It might be your last. 

We go in, have a couple of nice drinks, check out the dancefloor, have a laugh about him thinking a song was called "Niggas in France" when it was called "Better than Prince" and he puts his arm around me... it's a friendly gesture, it's a friendly gesture, it's a friendly gesture.

Drinks run low, the music isn't great, the night has come to an end.

He walks me to the nearest bus stop and waits with me for the bus to arrive. We hug goodbye. I don't want to cry, I just don't want to go. He's not the bad guy, he's just had a change of heart, which can't be helped.

I get back to an empty house again, which is fine because all I'm going to do is curl up and go to sleep. It's eleven thirty-four pm and I wish I was climbing into bed next to someone who loves me... one day I hope.

Seven days (Day 4)

Ugh, I wake up drunk.

I literally roll out of bed, as late as I can, and into the shower. The water feels like a hammer to my body but the heat is at least waking me up. It's foggy out but the weather man has promised sunshine later so I'm wearing a summer dress. I slip on a pair of my new trainers, grab my overnight bag and head out the door throwing a "Morning, Goodbye" towards my housemate.

It's not cold out but I keep my cardi on as I walk to work. The state I'm in, I need the fresh air. I take the same route as yesterday and it takes exactly 45 minutes. That's not a bad walk if I can manage it at least 5-6 times a week, there or back.

The first thing I do before even speaking to anyone in the office is top up my litre water bottle. I'm going to need it today. I haven't got a headache but I feel tired and a little sick. Breakfast this morning was an apple and a banana yazoo. Breakfast of champions.

I have a meeting at ten am. I take my water with me. It lasts longer than expected but that's okay because it means most of the morning has gone. It's half twelve when I start thinking about lunch. My head just isn't in the game today.

Oomph - I need food. I've just hit that low.

So I bought a dress on Sunday and although it looked nice, it wasn't really ME. I walk to Angel's Chapel Market at lunch to exchange it for a lovely pink paisley one in the same style. I didn't bring lunch in today because, well I had a liquid dinner last night, so I opt for a burrito - regret it as soon as I take the last bite because I just want to sleep now.

The afternoon passes at a snails pace and I'm dreading Boxercise later. My colleague is telling me that I shouldn't really do any exercise because I'm dehydrated. If I don't go, I'll have skipped exercise for 3 days running. For the old Amy that would have been acceptable but not this version.

Finish my 2 ltrs of water, but I think I should try another. Still got an hour and a half to go till I can get out of here. I'm playing about with a spreadsheet in an attempt to tidy up one of our many processes and it makes me frustrated that this simple task hasn't already been done. Ooh, my fingers ache - interesting. Could I get away with a bowl of cereal?

I treat myself to a walk and buy some Sweet 'n' Salt popcorn, a small bag of almonds and one of those Naked smoothies from Sainsbury's. Arctic Monkeys have a new tune out so that's on repeat a few times as I wait for the day to come to a close. Starting to feel that sleepiness again.

I get a phone call from St. Mungo's. I'm going over to see them in a couple of weeks about being a volunteer. I might as well put my new found free time to good use.

Forty minutes left.

Today has been a pretty shocking day in terms of dragging it's butt! I think that's partly down to the fact that I've not got much to do at the moment and also the affect of the alcohol. I manage one more glass of water before I leave.

The journey to my mum's is hot and sticky but at least I get a seat. I have to be quick about it. I almost give it away because the other person going for it gives me a pleading look; any other day... I ignore the lool and make myself comfortable, well that is until a pregnant lady gets on and there's no hesitation. The bloke that was sitting next to me looks sheepish and so he should.

I won't have time to eat dinner so I'm snacking on the almonds for energy. I'm close to calling time on the Boxercise idea though, I feel so rough.

I get in and decide I'm not going, but mum and I go for a forty-five minute walk before having dinner. I'm tired and not looking forward to work tomorrow. It's nine twenty pm.

I shower before bed and end up ridiculously hot. I lie awake for a little while and start thinking about him. I'm upset I've not heard from him and with each day that passes, it's becoming more and more real - this is never going to change. 

I cry. It's ten past eleven pm.

Seven days (Day 3)

I did not want to get up this morning. I slept really well. I only woke up once. I washed my hair this morning and I'm not pleased with how the back just seems to be SO darn frizzy nowadays. I'm looking forward to when I'll get the twists in and not have to worry about the knots for a while.

I walked into work again this morning. I experimented with the route but as it's such a gorgeous day I wasn't that bothered where I was going or how long it was taking me. What did bother me was the rubbing on my little toe :( my 'new' converse are a little too small for my right foot. With time they will get more comfortable but right now - ow ow ow.

I spend the morning listening to Beyonce. I play "Why don't you love me" a few times and not because I feel sad, it's actually a catchy tune. She's a sexy beast, that Be :)

Lunchtime is spent discussing man issues with a colleague and laughing at ourselves for flapping about when a wasp tries to settle on our food. The sun makes so many issues or problems you have disappear, or at least feel less impossible.

My new running shoes arrive and I feel happy that I've finally got a selection of comfy trainers to wear, either to walk to work in or tackle this running malarky. This will be the last treat I allow myself this month. I've spent too much already and it's only the 4th Sept!

I have a couple conversations about future training and set up a meeting about a new training structure. I chase a few people to do things I've asked them to do several times already and finish the last of my water - that's 2 ltrs done, plus two green teas.

I'm excited about meeting up with my girl pal later on for drinks, although I know she's going to ask a lot of questions about me and the ex-boyf.

A friend sends me an article on kindness and I feel chills. I find that I want to become a better person nowadays. I want to enjoy my life and the people who I share special moments with because those moments are far too fleeting. The article was by George Saunders.

My favourite part of it was:
Can we succeed?  Can we build a viable life for ourselves? Accomplishment is unreliable. “Succeeding,” whatever that might mean to you, is hard. Success is like a mountain that keeps growing ahead of you as you hike it, and there’s the very real danger that “succeeding” will take up your whole life, while the big questions go untended. 
We're having a deep conversation about what this may mean to our own lives. I'm feeling very spiritual.

My afternoon is spent preparing for the couple of meetings I have booked in tomorrow, all the while I'm acutely aware that he hasn't been in touch at all since Monday afternoon. Beyonce is still playing on repeat, her sexy beats making me feel motivated to get in shape.

I race out the door at 6pm to get down to Old Street to collect the watch I ordered (yes, another purchase) and then saunter over to The Hoxton Grill. I grab a bottle of beer and settle in a nice little alcove. She arrives within minutes of me sitting down.

The evening proceeds with non-stop drinks, several bathroom breaks, a few nibbles and constant nattering. There are a few tears shed, from us both, but mainly gossiping and laughter. It's midnight by the time we stumble out the door towards the train station. We hug, I have orange lip gloss on my face when I jump on the bus home.

I walk in the door and straight up the stairs to bed. The housemate is still up and I mumble something about being drunk. Bed feels SO good.

That morning after the night before feeling

I'm in a bizarre space at the minute. I'm not sure if I'm just in a mood or suffering from a hangover. 

To give you some context, I spent a lot of yesterday in the sun. I'm not pasty as the few days of sunshine we have had this year, I've been blessed with catching some colour but even so, it's always nice to sit out in the sun. I drank lots of water to keep well hydrated, watched some of the Lions game, a little of the women's final (tennis) and then went out to a party last night that I didn't really want to go to but was duty bound. Had an okay time but I drank a lot of cheap, horrible tasting wine to get through it.

The result was that I slept badly.

I dreamt that I was in a place surrounded by tall glass buildings, with people I know from work but also some family members, and bombs kept exploding causing shards of glass to rain all round me. I spent most of the dream trying to figure out the location of the next bomb to go off in order to run from it, dragging a friend or family member away with me.

So now I'm a bit 'meh'.

I'm currently at the boyf's parent's house in Devon and tomorrow morning shall see me up at the crack of dawn to catch a train back to London so I can go to work. I am not a morning person so you can imagine, I'm not looking forward to that AT ALL.

Maybe it is just a mood brought on by the wine, which essentially means it's a hangover. I hope it f***s off soon because it's doing my head in.