If I were
one for using bad language, there would be a stream of expletives to describe
the week I’ve just had. Monday was the culmination of a lot of dastardly deeds
done by others last year, which basically meant a project I was involved in
with, could no longer continue. Monday was “D Day” and after many MANY tears, I
figured the best way to cheer myself up was to eat!
Anyone, who like me tries to solve their
problems with food, will know that when the chips are down, they normally end up
in your gob!
On Monday I had a real sense of emptiness
and so although I started the day well (fruit and yogurt)
at lunchtime I found myself eating fish and chips (that’s normally what happens
when you decide to head to the chippy), then in the afternoon, there was ice
cream (a tub of Ben and Jerrys) and then in the evening, my Dad took us out for
dinner, so my starter was some sort of fried fish platter followed by a gourmet
burger (for gourmet read as much stuff as it’s possible to get onto a burger in
a cob, cheese, bacon, onion rings, bit more cheese) and then chocolate cake for
pudding. This was all washed down with a vast quantity of red wine.
I still went to bed feeling generally pretty
shitty, although that could have been my not to wise food and drink choices.
On Tuesday when I woke up, I still felt
rubbish and getting on the scales was the equivalent of checking out pictures
of your ex-boyfriend’s new girlfriend. You know it’s going to hurt, but the sadomasochist
in you does it anyway!
Sitting chatting to my sister Lucy later in the day, we
launched into a full on bitch session, anyone and everyone who’d even remotely upset
us got a pasting and so once again by mid-afternoon we were pretty miserable.
As we sat there staring blankly into cups of
tea, I reminded Lucy that as advocates of “The Secret” we were being pretty
rubbish. All the horrible things we were saying, were just feeding other
horrible negative situations and we needed to stop. Yes we’d had a really rubbish time, but it was time to get over it! The situation may have dominated our lives for the last 10 months, but it wasn't going to dominate our futures.
So we decided to invent this……please meet
the “Bitch Box”
Every
time one of us says something negative or has a negative emotion, then 20p has
to go into the box.
These are
rules.
The last few months have given me an insight
as to who my friends really are. The people you think will be there for you
never are and say stuff like;
But then
on the flipside, there’s the friends who turn up with a random bunch of flowers
because it might cheer you up, or send you a text telling you that they’re thinking
of you, or who bring round wine and say “lets drink wine till our heads spin”
They’re the friends I’m really grateful for.
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