So, I've put on approx 13lb since I got married 8 weeks ago - surely that's some kind of record? It's not really something I want to boast about to be honest, but it's kinda confirmed my theory that I AM NOT one of those people who can eat anything they want and stay slim. That's definitely not me.
So by the time we go on honeymoon in Jan I need to have lost 13lb, plus another half a stone (at least) and be all toned and fit in time for beaches, trekking and pampering. By my calculations then, I need to lose 5lb per month to be a skinny malinky by Jan - plus, I need to navigate the gluttony that is the festive period.
My first move will be to join a lunch time Slimming World literally a couple of feet away from my work. I'm sceptical, but figure it's something I can follow blindly for a few weeks and if it doesn't work I can always go back to the old failsafe of cutting out rice, pasta, potatoes and bread... it's dull, and it encourages binging when you finally allow yourself to one of the 'forbidden' food groups, but at least I knows it gets results if all else fails. Still, I like the idea of having a balanced diet in the traditional sense. First class is on Wednesday... already a bit nervous.
Monday, 5 September 2011
Friday, 2 September 2011
Time to bite your lip
I'm pretty laid back generally, but it's just not cool when someone rubs something in your face. Or makes stupid comments that are pointless and just plain mean.
Take this woman in my team at work, for example. Embarrassingly, I had a plaster cast on my leg for the work Christmas do last year. I wore a maxi dress and took just the one crutch to hobble about on. Work woman comes up to me and says: "You know, you're really carrying that off. You look like you've got MS."
Not sure how to react to that really.
And after my wedding (she was invited, along with other colleagues, for the evening do) I was so proud that people were commenting on how radiant I looked on the day. I'm under no illusion that my fabulous hair and make-up lady, plus the excitement of the day, were both key to generating those incredibly kind comments; the make-up lady was a proper miracle worker! But isn't it a bit unnecessary for work woman to say: "Yes, you looked lovely. And I said to Lee, I said 'What an AMAZING transformation!!'" Erm, back handed much?
So really, I shouldn't have been surprised when she was flouncing around the office going on about meeting a famous designer today for one client and going to Monaco in a few weeks for another, knowing full well that none of my clients are likely to present that opportunity.
Fair enough, it's all very exciting and in her place I would have been bouncing around too, but I really had to bite my lip when she said, in all seriousness: "And you know, how on earth do you mentally prepare yourself when you're going to Monaco and hanging out with famous designers one week, and then having to come back to doing plain old bird food the next. I mean, it just messes with your mind..."
Yes, of course it does love. Poor you. It must be awful having to spend a week in Monaco on expenses, and then have to come back to work with the rest of us plebs. Please feel free to fuck the fuck off and stay there.
Yours, with hugs, Bea x
Take this woman in my team at work, for example. Embarrassingly, I had a plaster cast on my leg for the work Christmas do last year. I wore a maxi dress and took just the one crutch to hobble about on. Work woman comes up to me and says: "You know, you're really carrying that off. You look like you've got MS."
Not sure how to react to that really.
And after my wedding (she was invited, along with other colleagues, for the evening do) I was so proud that people were commenting on how radiant I looked on the day. I'm under no illusion that my fabulous hair and make-up lady, plus the excitement of the day, were both key to generating those incredibly kind comments; the make-up lady was a proper miracle worker! But isn't it a bit unnecessary for work woman to say: "Yes, you looked lovely. And I said to Lee, I said 'What an AMAZING transformation!!'" Erm, back handed much?
So really, I shouldn't have been surprised when she was flouncing around the office going on about meeting a famous designer today for one client and going to Monaco in a few weeks for another, knowing full well that none of my clients are likely to present that opportunity.
Fair enough, it's all very exciting and in her place I would have been bouncing around too, but I really had to bite my lip when she said, in all seriousness: "And you know, how on earth do you mentally prepare yourself when you're going to Monaco and hanging out with famous designers one week, and then having to come back to doing plain old bird food the next. I mean, it just messes with your mind..."
Yes, of course it does love. Poor you. It must be awful having to spend a week in Monaco on expenses, and then have to come back to work with the rest of us plebs. Please feel free to fuck the fuck off and stay there.
Yours, with hugs, Bea x
Thursday, 1 September 2011
News about your ticket!
These are the words that inspire hope and excitement every time I see them... swiftly followed by crushing disappointment when I log on to my National Lottery account and realise that the measly tenner I've won isn't going to be by ticket outta Dodge. Definite sadface.
I used to think it was quite fun to see the email and just have those few minutes of dreaming of my reaction when I realise it's the jackpot. Would I scream, run around the office and shout I QUIT MUTHA FUNSTERS! as I skip out the door, merrily aiming the Vs at my boss on the way out? Or would I keep a lid on the butterflies, slink out and call El Hub, whispering that 'I think we might have just won the lottery..'?
And then there's what you'd do with it. That's a whole other question... it all depends on how much you've won, of course. A mil probably wouldn't go that far once you've paid off your mortgage, bought a new car and given a token amount to family and friends etc. I'd imagine you'd have to go back to work at some point, unless you invested a large proportion of it and curbed the fun stuff. if you're talking Euromillions, then you have a lot more options. I'm talking butlers and superyachts here...
But no. All these thoughts rushing through your head, the build of anticipation as you calmly type in your log in details and then... that sinking feeling when you see £10.00. Really, £10? It's paid for the ticket and I have a few quid left over, but being the ingrate that I am, it just seems like a kick in the teeth... And, when you cut to it, the real reason I'm so grumpy about it is because it means that I have to keep coming into bloody work. Not just work, but this job. That's probably telling me something isn't it... But that's a whole other post. For now I'm going to dream about buying an island and having a grapes peeled for me by gold plated angels...
I used to think it was quite fun to see the email and just have those few minutes of dreaming of my reaction when I realise it's the jackpot. Would I scream, run around the office and shout I QUIT MUTHA FUNSTERS! as I skip out the door, merrily aiming the Vs at my boss on the way out? Or would I keep a lid on the butterflies, slink out and call El Hub, whispering that 'I think we might have just won the lottery..'?
And then there's what you'd do with it. That's a whole other question... it all depends on how much you've won, of course. A mil probably wouldn't go that far once you've paid off your mortgage, bought a new car and given a token amount to family and friends etc. I'd imagine you'd have to go back to work at some point, unless you invested a large proportion of it and curbed the fun stuff. if you're talking Euromillions, then you have a lot more options. I'm talking butlers and superyachts here...
But no. All these thoughts rushing through your head, the build of anticipation as you calmly type in your log in details and then... that sinking feeling when you see £10.00. Really, £10? It's paid for the ticket and I have a few quid left over, but being the ingrate that I am, it just seems like a kick in the teeth... And, when you cut to it, the real reason I'm so grumpy about it is because it means that I have to keep coming into bloody work. Not just work, but this job. That's probably telling me something isn't it... But that's a whole other post. For now I'm going to dream about buying an island and having a grapes peeled for me by gold plated angels...
Wednesday, 31 August 2011
Chuffin' cake!
Dear god, if anyone had come into the kitchen at work approximately 2 minutes ago they would've been disgusted. I was disgusted. I just cut a slice of chocolate cake and literally rammed it into my mouth.
The woman that came out of the kitchen was composed, fresh and looking serious, as though I was an incredibly busy and important person trying to get on with my day. No sign of the cake-guzzling witch who had to clean up the crumbs and chug a glass of water to get the inevitable chocolate goo out from between my teeth.
The mental image of how a colleague would have seen me had they come in before I'd cleaned up should really put me off doing it ever again. In reality, I suspect the secret kitchen chuffer will rear its head at some point. I mean, it's quite fun in a way. It's a very lame way of being a bit naughty at work.
The woman that came out of the kitchen was composed, fresh and looking serious, as though I was an incredibly busy and important person trying to get on with my day. No sign of the cake-guzzling witch who had to clean up the crumbs and chug a glass of water to get the inevitable chocolate goo out from between my teeth.
The mental image of how a colleague would have seen me had they come in before I'd cleaned up should really put me off doing it ever again. In reality, I suspect the secret kitchen chuffer will rear its head at some point. I mean, it's quite fun in a way. It's a very lame way of being a bit naughty at work.
Relatives are delicate things
Well mine seem to be anyway. I've come to the conclusion that regular contact - weekly, at the absolute minimum - is the only way to guarantee their health.
I'm pretty good at keeping in touch with rellies, but I've noticed that every time I hit a busy (or just plain lazy) patch and a week turns into a month (or two), the next thing I know is that they're poorly, in hospital or generally not doing well.
My grandad was taken into hospital last night with fluid on the lungs. I haven't called him since my wedding in July. It's not like I meant not to call, you just get caught up in your own busy life sometimes. And yes, some of it is laziness. Either way, I feel worried, guilty and a bit ashamed. My grandad is the last of the grandparents, and although it seems he'll be OK this time, I'm adamant I'm going to call him at least twice a week. And see him at least once a month. Not just because of my strange theory, but because when he does finally potter off to the big comfy sofa in the sky to join my grandma, I want to have spent as much time as I possibly can with him. He's a lovely man and I know it's difficult for him without my grandma being around, they were proper soul mates.
I'm pretty good at keeping in touch with rellies, but I've noticed that every time I hit a busy (or just plain lazy) patch and a week turns into a month (or two), the next thing I know is that they're poorly, in hospital or generally not doing well.
My grandad was taken into hospital last night with fluid on the lungs. I haven't called him since my wedding in July. It's not like I meant not to call, you just get caught up in your own busy life sometimes. And yes, some of it is laziness. Either way, I feel worried, guilty and a bit ashamed. My grandad is the last of the grandparents, and although it seems he'll be OK this time, I'm adamant I'm going to call him at least twice a week. And see him at least once a month. Not just because of my strange theory, but because when he does finally potter off to the big comfy sofa in the sky to join my grandma, I want to have spent as much time as I possibly can with him. He's a lovely man and I know it's difficult for him without my grandma being around, they were proper soul mates.
Tuesday, 30 August 2011
Ooooops!
Yep, that was a bad idea. Just spent £47.50 at M&S.
NEVER shop when hungry.
But I did get breakfast and dinner for the rest of the week, plus 3 days of lunch and lots of cheese.
I do love cheese.
Cheese probably isn't my friend when it comes to weight loss, but man alive, there's nothing like a slice of Jarlsberg to make you feel cheesy and nutty all at the same time. <insert obvious comment here>
Oh god. I've over cheesed. Which is funny considering I actually bought a prawn salad for lunch. Not sure how that happened #cheesyprawns
NEVER shop when hungry.
But I did get breakfast and dinner for the rest of the week, plus 3 days of lunch and lots of cheese.
I do love cheese.
Cheese probably isn't my friend when it comes to weight loss, but man alive, there's nothing like a slice of Jarlsberg to make you feel cheesy and nutty all at the same time. <insert obvious comment here>
Oh god. I've over cheesed. Which is funny considering I actually bought a prawn salad for lunch. Not sure how that happened #cheesyprawns
Not a great start
Ok, so how many blogs start 'Ok, so...'?
Loads I imagine. It's not hugely inspiring and I don't really have anything interesting to say at the moment, but that's because I'm at work (shhh), I'm hungry (everything looks like food at the moment) and I'm irritated that ONCE AGAIN I've left lunch until after 2pm. This is no way to run a healthy eating programme of virtuousness and amazing weight loss success. Especially when you had 6 oatcakes for breakfast and a pretty constant stream of nuts and raisins.
Nope, this is the way to drift subconsciously towards the fresh cheese scones in M&S, whilst someone (not me, of course) piles in 'treats' such as crisps, samosas and cocktail sausages.
Be strong, my child. Come back with salad and a shiny halo.
Wish me luck. (Luck)
Loads I imagine. It's not hugely inspiring and I don't really have anything interesting to say at the moment, but that's because I'm at work (shhh), I'm hungry (everything looks like food at the moment) and I'm irritated that ONCE AGAIN I've left lunch until after 2pm. This is no way to run a healthy eating programme of virtuousness and amazing weight loss success. Especially when you had 6 oatcakes for breakfast and a pretty constant stream of nuts and raisins.
Nope, this is the way to drift subconsciously towards the fresh cheese scones in M&S, whilst someone (not me, of course) piles in 'treats' such as crisps, samosas and cocktail sausages.
Be strong, my child. Come back with salad and a shiny halo.
Wish me luck. (Luck)
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