Generic new year new diet bullshit blog post

I never agreed with diets. I thought they were unnecessary, ridiculous, and shallow. I love Kate Moss, but when she said ‘nothing tastes as good as skinny feels’, I thought ‘oh fuck off’ and reached for the pizza. But then I was 7 and a half stone for most of my late teens and early 20s. I didn’t need to diet. At first it was just because I had a fast metabolism. I could eat literally whatever I wanted and nothing happened. But then, just like Kate Moss, I had a little help from some class A friends. I also used to pole dance a lot more, so that kept me fit too. Plus I had youth on my side.

From around my mid-twenties, I started slowly putting on weight. I went to 8 and a half stone first, which in BMI terms is apparently the perfect weight for my height. Then a few years later it went up to 9 and a half stone, then the other day I weighed myself, and it said I was 10 stone. Now in some ways I love being a bit curvier. For a start I never thought I’d see the day when someone would ask me my bra size and I would proudly answer ‘34D’. I always liked the shape of my boobs, even when they were a B cup, but now I fucking love them. But I’m going to be honest now – I do want to lose around a stone.

There’s a lot on social media currently about body positivity, and I feel like it’s unfashionable now to say that you want to go on a diet. The thing is, I do still love my body, I just know that I loved it a bit better when I was around 8 and a half – 9 stone. I know I’ll never be a size 8 again, and I’m okay with that – I don’t really want to be. I did look too thin when I was 7 and a half stone, and heroin chic isn’t really in anymore. (Sorry Kate).  And I do want to keep most of the boobs. But I also want to be able to fit back into my old size 10 dresses and shorts, and be able to look down see my pussy again without having to suck my tummy in.

I also feel like if I carry on like this, then I’ll just keep putting on weight every few years, so I need to nip it in the bud now, before it becomes even harder to control. And I know it’s a cliché, but it’s not just about aesthetics –  I also want to just get fit and healthy too. I want to be able to hang upside down backwards on a pole again without feeling like I’m going to fall down and die at any second.

My problem is self control. I love food. It’s my favourite thing in the whole world. I love it more than wine, and comedy, and kinky sex, and Buffy the fucking Vampire Slayer. It makes me so excited. And I the hate the idea of having to deny myself food that I want. I like the gratuitous decadence of being greedy with food. I find eating a little bit sexy sometimes. I will never ever not eat in front of a date for fear of what they will think of me. God I feel hungry just typing this. I disagree with diets and restriction in principle. Live the life you want! But I have to acknowledge that sometimes living the life you want means making some lifestyle changes.

So this month I’m trying not to eat chocolate, cakes, and biscuits at all to curb the addiction to sugar, and then I can add it back but to a much lower extent. And I’m also trying to eat fewer bad carbs like white bread and white pasta, as your body processes them as sugar too. I want to go from what I eat being 60% carbs to eventually around 20%. I also want to start doing yoga every day, and more regular dance classes, running, hula hooping, and bike riding this year. In terms of drinking, I’m going to attempt to replace wine with vodka, lime, and soda at least half the time. But I won’t ever be doing dry January, or Veganuary for that matter. Mainly because I don’t wish to take all the joy completely out of my life.

My idea is not to think of it in a restrictive way – so rather than ‘oh crap I can’t have chocolate or ciabatta’. I’m trying to think of it more like  – awesome I can eat lots of cheese, and avocados, and steak. And eggs. I made some banging poached eggs the other day. And I’m not going to be a total annoying holier than thou dickhead about it. I’ll give myself cheat days. Of course. Just not too many. My problem has been that I’ve been seeing every day as a cheat day since 2003. (Prior to 2003 I lived at home and my mother was quite strict about what I could and couldn’t eat. Thus resulting in me eating everything in sight once I went to Uni and not ever learning the concept of moderation. Thanks mum).

By the way, I know some people talk about their body because they are either consciously or subconsciously fishing for compliments. I’m not writing this article because I want lots of people to write back and say ‘no you’re gorgeous, you don’t need to lose any weight’! (Although if you’d like to do that, don’t let me stop you).

I’m writing it because I think it’s okay to say that there’s something you are unhappy with about yourself and you want to change it.  And it’s not anti feminist, or body shaming to talk about it. Of course it’s also totally fine if you’re happy and don’t want to change anything! Or if you find diets problematic due to previous health issues with food. Or if you’re going on a diet and you’re doing it in a different way. I’m just trying what I think will work for me, and want to put this out there as a way of giving my perspective on it, and something to look back on at the end of the year and see if I reached my goal. Now where’s that fucking halloumi? 

 

Happy Fucking New Year

In 2016, one of the jobs that I was doing meant I had to work Saturday and Sunday daytime on both New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. I’d been invited to a small house party / gathering at my friend’s house for NYE, and was fully intending on going, but then got home and decided not to. I put a pizza in the oven, drank some wine, and put a film on. (I can’t remember which film, but I remember it being good). At midnight I looked out my window and saw some fireworks, and thought ‘this is way better than going out on NYE’.

Everyone is familiar with the hype of NYE, and the cliché that it’s always a hassle going out, and never as good as you expect it to be. I barely ever go to bars / clubs on New Years, and often spend it at a house party or gathering. And actually I’ve had some really fun nights doing that. But I forgot all of this, and became a bit obsessed with the idea of spending it alone. After all my own company is amazing – and I can never disappoint myself, right?

For the next few weeks after NYE 2016, I proceeded to tell everyone smugly that I’d had the best night of my life on my own at home. Then when anyone asked me what I was doing for NYE 2017, I told the same story again and how excited I was about replicating it. This ensured that for the first time in about 16 years, absolutely NOBODY asked me to do something with them on NYE (up until the actual day when one friend invited me to a gathering). But I was insistent on not going out.

In the late afternoon of the actual day, I decided to masturbate, as I‘m trying to learn how to cum while kneeling, so that in 2018 I can fulfil one of my lifelong ambitions of squirting all over a man’s face. I ended up having probably the best orgasm of my life so far. It was so good that I immediately had to drink some wine afterwards to calm myself down again. And maybe that was the problem. I peaked too soon. When you’re having multiple orgasms at 5pm, the rest of the night is obviously going to be a bit of a let down.

After the orgasm of the century, I made chicken curry, and some more mulled wine, and finished watching ‘Coupling’, which I’ve been re-watching recently. If you’ve never seen it, or you’ve forgotten how good it was, then I recommend watching it again. I love the intricate details of their mishaps, and the way the storytelling is edited and cut together. Also it’s from the early 2000s, which is very almost the 90s, so obviously I have a nostalgia thing going on for it.

Chicken curry, rice, and salad

After that I thought I should put on some music and have my own little mini party at home. I remember how me and one of my friends have spent a couple of New years together dancing to 90s music, specifically PJ & Duncan, and decided to listen to them, ironically, of course. (At first anyway).

Recently I saw someone post on Facebook that ‘Airplane’ was one the top 10 funniest films ever, and I thought – I should rewatch that. So I put it on. It was good, but not as funny as I remembered it. Maybe because I was watching it alone, there were no shared moments of laughter with anyone else. Looks like I picked the wrong day to watch ‘Airplane’.

After that I spoke on the phone to a friend, ran out of wine, and went to the shop to get some more. At midnight I went to my bathroom, and watched the various fireworks that were going off all over north London. After that I just remember drinking more wine, and staying up quite late for no reason.

It was ok. But it definitely wasn’t the best night of my life. I think 2016 had been so good, because I had been fully prepared to go out, but then made the impulse decision not to, so had to make the most of it, and enjoyed the relief of not having to make an effort to see people. It was similar to when a friend cancels on you and you’re secretly happy that you get a night in to yourself.

Even though I’m naturally an extrovert (ENFP and proud), sometimes I can be very introverted. As I once tweeted something like: ‘being an introverted extrovert means sometimes I hate people and want to be left alone, and sometimes I hate people but I need attention’. I do love spending time on my own, but I have been doing it a lot recently, and it makes me forget that I do also enjoy going out and seeing friends etc.  

Sometimes I convince myself that I’ll get loads done – I’ll do yoga, and creative stuff, and finally sort out those boxes I haven’t looked at since I moved 4 years ago, but then just end up spending most of the time on my phone. Which I’m still trying to do less of after the blog post last year about this. Who can actually keep their phone on flight mode for more that half an hour without checking it?! It’s so difficult. At least this evening I’ve written this blog post, which counts for something. But I need to stop hibernating, and start living a bit more. So that’s what I plan to do this year.

As for New Year’s Eves from now on, I’m going out. Not out out. Just to a house party. Invite me to all your parties. I’ll pick the best one. Or I’ll do some sort of house party crawl. Making sure I attend all of them for fear of missing out. Either that, or if I do end up staying in, it will be because I’m going to have the best orgasm of my life with someone else there. Forget kissing as the clock strikes midnight, I’d like to be fucking as the clock strikes midnight. I’ll let my pussy do the fireworks. 

 

Living in the moment

I’m addicted to my phone. I have it with me all the time. I check it probably hundreds of times a day. I spend hours messaging people and hours on social media. It runs my life. Phone addiction is a real thing, and I’m sure there are people reading this that have the same problem. It’s widely known now that when you check your phone and you have a notification, it increases your dopamine levels, and that’s why we keep doing it.

I feel more and more that smart phones have ruined my attention span and ability to focus. Sometimes I will be listening to a podcast or watching a TV show, and I will still check Twitter or be Whatsapping someone at the same time. It’s distracting, time wasting, and bad for your health. I often have days where I think what did I actually do today? And the answer is just play on my phone.

At the weekend I went away to Suffolk for a friend’s wedding. I didn’t know there was going to be a beach nearby so that was a nice surprise, as I fucking love beaches. (Not packing a bikini did not stop me, as I can swim just as mediocrely in a vest top and shorts). There was no signal at all on the beach, and it made my beach experience so much better.  I did take some pictures but that only took a few minutes.

DSC_0715

The rest of the time, I wrote my morning pages and then I swam for ages because there was literally nothing else for me to do. It was a great spontaneous artist’s date, that I could just enjoy for what it was without mindlessly scrolling my Facebook news feed.

On the walk back to the B&B I got signal, (this was handy to check I was walking in the right direction because I’d got a lift on the way there), but the walk took longer than it was meant to, as I kept checking my phone. I did have to send one message about arrangements for getting to the church later, but the others could have waited. I also accidentally sat on a stinging nettle when I stopped to do stuff on my phone, so I guess that was the universe’s way of telling me to get off my fucking phone. Having said that, I discovered that I actually quite like the feeling of stinging nettles, and could totally incorporate this into some kinky outdoor sex in the future.

Recently I have been trying to put my phone on flight mode when I want to get stuff done, but I still find that 5 minutes later I will just take the phone off flight mode. Today I really wanted to try and break this habit, so I intentionally went out without my phone for probably the first time in about 16 years.

And again, without being able to use my phone, I had an awesome time. I took some bags to the recycling centre, then walked to Ally Pally park. With no phone to distract me, I noticed my surroundings more. I looked at the clouds. I watched a bee pollinate every flower in sight, and enjoyed the feeling of the grass under my skin and bare feet.

It was a little frustrating not being able to take any photos, but I soon got over it. I wrote a few poems in my notebook and appreciated  just being in the park. I wished I’d taken my hula hoop, so maybe I will do that in future. I had no idea what time it was, because I haven’t worn a watch since circa 2004, but there was something really lovely about this. Eventually I realised I was going to get hungry soon and needed to get some dinner. So next time I will take food too.

Being in the shops was another challenge, as I didn’t have anything to occupy myself while queuing, but it was actually okay. I channelled my inner 90s gal and it worked. I feel like we were all so much more patient back then. Because you had to be. You had to wait for so long for everything. Music, TV Shows, Movies, Dial Up Internet.

You had to actually phone someone on a landline if you wanted to talk to them. And sometimes they weren’t in.  If you wanted to skip a song, you had to fast forward and then guess when to stop it. And then maybe sometimes you went too far and you had to rewind. When you stopped that cassette tape in just the right place, that was a satisfying moment. We don’t have moments like these anymore. Everything is at our fingertips, which is why we get so impatient if someone doesn’t text back straight away or our WiFi stops working. But maybe we should learn some of the patience we had back then.

When I got home, I resisted the urge to check my phone, and put my food in the fridge first. Then I went on my phone and immediately lost 10 minutes of my life to Twitter, so now it’s on flight mode, and has been for the last three hours. Go self control. I’m definitely going to try and go out without my phone more often, and hopefully this will train my brain not to check it all the time when I do have it with me. Because I don’t want to look back on my life and realise I wasted half of it staring at a little screen.

Smartphones are great, and social media is great –  I wouldn’t have so many people reading my blog without it. But like everything in life – they need to be consumed in moderation.

Stuck in the 90s

On Wednesday I turned 32. Which I always remember is the same age Brittany Murphy was when she died. Which makes me want to clean my shower properly, so I don’t get toxic mold poisoning. But I hate cleaning. Or do I? More on that later.

When I was a teenager I thought that 32 was super old. I couldn’t imagine being that old. Or if I could, I thought by 32 I would be ‘settled’, probably married with children. I guess because that’s what you assume when you are a kid. That’s the narrative you’re sold, especially as a girl, and especially when I was younger and we didn’t have Frozen to teach us that true love can come from your sister, not just from a man.

Although I didn’t have a sister, so that would probably have just pissed me off. I couldn’t understand as a kid why my mum couldn’t just give me a sister, because I didn’t know that some things do need to come from a man.

But anyway…anyone who knows me or follows me on any social media knows that I am obsessed with the 90s, which is ironic because we didn’t have social media in the 90s. I didn’t even have a hotmail account until 2001.

It confused me when I was younger why my mum was obsessed with the 60s and would still listen to The Beatles and The Supremes – I was like ‘ listen to some new music, mum!’ before slamming my door and putting on the Spice Girls.

But as we all are doomed to turn into our mothers, despite our best intentions (HEAD DESK), now I basically haven’t moved on since circa 1999. I still wear shag bands and chokers, watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer on a regular basis, and recently sang Jennifer Paige’s song Crush at karaoke (while on a Tinder date which I realise is not very 90s).

So I thought, what better way to spend my birthday evening with my mum than to go and see ‘2 Become 1’. A 90s themed musical (with real 90s songs). It opens with one of the characters Jess sobbing into her landline after a break-up, and singing All Saints Never Ever (All Saints was the first concert I ever went to) before her 3 friends persuade her to go to a speed dating event.

It had everything I had hoped for and more – Shania Twain, butterfly clips, hilarious facial expressions, audience interaction, Titanic, 3 Spice Girls songs, dance routines, Britney, Gina G Ooh Ah Just a Little bit, and not one – but two Buffy References! They even managed to mix ‘I’m Horny’ and ‘Genie in a bottle’ together. It totally embodied the sense of fun that the 90s were all about. 

And there were free badges! I am now the proud owner of a badge that says ‘No Scrubs’ on it.

I loved that there were some references to the way some men see women (‘he wants you to suck his cock, but pretend like you’re doing it for the first time’), and the crap that we read in women’s magazines.  There was also some dramatic irony about how online dating will never catch on because it’s better to meet someone in real life, and the character Molly imagining a terrible world where we don’t have a Labour government and there are loads of cuts to the NHS, and the arts.

It was basically a wonderful trip down memory lane for me, even though it made me a bit sad that I never had a Tamagotchi. (Belated birthday present anyone?)

I do feel sometimes like the 90s was a better, more innocent time, sure we had lads mags, but there was something more tongue in cheek about it, plus we had Girl Power to balance it out. And I’m sure loads of bad stuff was still happening (I remember the war in Kosovo) but we didn’t hear about every bad thing all the time because no one had Twitter. The 90s was a time when a Union Jack dress was nothing to do with Brexit and a troll was a toy you would collect.

There was so much hope! (Before the ultimate disappointment when your cassette tape got tangled and even a pencil couldn’t save it). Especially with New Labour. I loved Tony Blair so much at one point that it was my dream to become a politician. Not even joking. Can you imagine? I mean I do have the legs for it.

Maybe 2017 can be the new 1997? The small optimistic part of me wants to believe that on the 9th of June we can tell Theresa May to talk to the hand ’cause the face ain’t listening. And if not I plan to get drunk and listen to Nirvana. Actually I will do that either way.

Although the 90s resonate with me and I love them, I don’t necessarily love who I was then. It’s easy to idealise the past, but I’ve changed so much  and I much prefer the person I am now. And yes I’m not where I thought I would be at 32. But I discovered that I don’t want a conventional 2.4 children life, and also more recently that sometimes I hold myself back because of self-fulfilling prophecies I have about myself.

I spent years telling myself I couldn’t be good with money, or tidy, or good at cleaning, or able to achieve certain things but that’s just me limiting myself when there should be No Limits, and now in the words of Ultra Nate, I’m free to be who I want to be.

I also think I’m starting to get the balance of simultaneously living for the present and planning for the future. As Buffy would say ‘seize the moment ’cause tomorrow you might be dead’.

So yes, I am stuck in the 90s, and I think that’s okay as long as it’s musically and fictionally, not mentally. I do have to accept that it’s not 1997 anymore, and that’s a good thing. Maybe I’ll even start listening to some up to date music. While I clean my shower. I just need some 90s nostalgia to Spice up my Life sometimes. 

P.s. If you’re reading this before Edinburgh Festival 2017, go and watch ‘2 Become 1’ before you regret it like I regret never seeing the Spice Girls live (which was going to be the band I hadn’t seen on my list of ten bands, except I don’t do bullshit Facebook fads like that).

2 Become 1, written by Natasha Granger and Kerri Thomason, was at King’s Head Theatre Islington, 12th April 2017 – 29th April 2017 and will be at The Gilded Balloon Teviot (Venue 14) Edinburgh Fringe Festival 2017 – Tickets here 

Date at the Tate

On Saturday I was on my way to do Shaggers at Leicester Square Theatre when I got a message from a guy I’ve been talking to from Tinder asking to meet up that evening. I did initially invite him to the gig, although I’m quite glad he didn’t come now…

He suggested we meet at 9 and go to to Tate Modern (which is now open until 10 on Fridays and Saturdays). I thought that sounded cool and artsy so I agreed to meet him.

The gig was awesome and it was really fun being able to do all my dirtiest jokes. The audience seemed to enjoy my set, although one man did look shocked when I said the words, ‘but I don’t see you sipping out of my mooncup’. Apparently even at a sex themed comedy show, I’m still pushing the boundaries. Which I love doing. The show finished at 8.30 and I walked across the Thames to go and meet my date.

This man has spent the last few weeks or so basically being my news source. He likes to send me politics links, weather updates, pictures of the sky, and ask me stuff like who I think is going to win Euro 2016. (I can’t even remember who won now…was it France?!) Anyway, I was quite intrigued by his method of communicating and thought we might get along.

The problem with internet dating is you have no idea what a person is really like until you meet them. When I go on a date with someone, I generally know within 5 seconds if I am attracted to them or not. Which sounds like a really quick assessment. But that’s just how I am.

We meet, and I quickly realise he is not my type at all. I know that’s shallow, but I think that sexual attraction is very important, especially as I am not really looking for a relationship at the moment, more just some fun. I also don’t think that looks and personality are mutually exclusive and that when you meet someone in person you get a sense of that person as a whole and their general vibe.

But it’s rude to say straight away ‘Sorry I don’t fancy you, I’m going home’, plus I do (usually) like art galleries, so we go into the Tate and I think ‘well it closes at 10, so I can bail after that’.

The new building has a nice viewing platform, and the sky looks beautiful. I guess it could be quite romantic if you were there with the right person. I’m more interested in taking photos though.

Picture of the London Night Sky

We go back inside and see the Louise Bourgeois exhibition I have heard so much about, sadly I think I don’t really get it. It’s full of body shaped sculptures and dolls and I don’t understand or enjoy looking at them. I do like the spider on the wall though, I think spiders are beautiful and most people look at me oddly when I say this.

Picture of Louise Bourgeois's Spider

The gallery assistants keep telling him my date he’s not allowed drinks in the exhibitions, as he is carrying round an (unopened) coke can. (I ask him later when we are going back to the tube why he hasn’t drank it and he says he found it in a Boris bike and doesn’t want it. Right.)

We look at a few more rooms and nothing really grabs my attention. We talk about how art is all about networking and good marketing. For example, how the hell do you convince someone that this is worth putting on display?

Picture of Three Blank Canvases

I feel like art in a gallery should be at least a bit better than something I could make or just buy from a shop. Apparently this is not the case.

After a disappointing hour we walk back to the tube and my date tells me about how him and his last girlfriend dated for 5 years without having sex because she was religious (but he isn’t) and she wanted him to convert so they broke up. He also tells me that he was shocked when he came to England and saw people with Down Syndrome, as in Latvia where he is from ‘disabled people stay at home’. Wtf?!

When I get out of the tube there’s a message from him saying it was nice to meet me. I tell him it was good to meet him too (I’ve had worse dates and he did make me laugh a couple of times), but that I don’t think we have enough chemistry to meet again. He then says ‘why? I liked you’, so I tell him that he’s not my type (there’s really no need to ask for more information if someone says you don’t have enough chemistry). Do you want me to text back ‘I DON’T WANT TO SLEEP WITH YOU?!’

The next day he sends me a picture of the sky and I don’t reply.

The End

 

 

Living the Single Life

Just over three months’ ago, my boyfriend of one and a half years came over and said he wanted to break up with me. My response was ‘yeah I think that’s probably a good idea’. It hadn’t been working well for a while but we had been carrying on anyway, because it’s hard when you are attached to someone to finally let go. I had been thinking about breaking up too, (I mean it was on my to do list, I just hadn’t got round to it) so even though I was sad and part of me still wanted to hold on to what we had, I knew that it was for the best.

It’s strange when you have distance from a relationship. In the initial throes of romance I thought he was ‘the one’ (Peep Show style). I don’t necessarily believe in that, or that there is that one person for you, I just mean that I thought we were really good for each other and were going to be together a while. I was sort of right – I think a year and a half is a while to be fair.

I feel like when I first meet someone I get carried away with the lust and excitement that I don’t really think about if we are actually compatible or not, and how much of our Venn diagram overlaps. I ignore the bits that don’t fit, and I think a lot of people do this – going through their lives trying to put square shapes in triangular shaped holes. Sometimes people stay together because they want to settle down and have children. Since these are not things that I ever want, I think in future I need to be more picky about who I get into a relationship with. This will mean spending a lot of time alone. Fortunately, I like my own company.

In fact being single these last few months has been really good for me. I’m pretty sure I’m a better person when I am not in a relationship and I don’t have so many expectations from another person. Plus I’ve got loads of stuff done. Remember when I said I wanted to be more organised and tidy? It’s still a work in progress, but at least now I can see my bedroom floor.

My ex has already started dating someone new. At first I was a bit taken aback by it, especially when he said he wanted me to meet her. He said he was going to bring her to this gig we were both performing at.

I was worried it would be bitchy or awkward, but she was so cool and lovely, and it went so much better than I expected. As soon as I got off stage she said she had liked one of my jokes, which of course instantly made me like her. Luckily it was a good gig – you really don’t want to die on stage in front of your ex’s new girlfriend.

It was a bit weird seeing him hold hands with someone else, and be with her the way he used to be with me, but I didn’t feel jealous or annoyed, I just felt deeply happy for them. They seem to be better match than we were and I hope they are together for a while…

New Job, New Me

Remember that interview I went for a while ago? Well I got the job! Me? Yes! What I didn’t tell you before was that 270 people applied for the role before they narrowed it down to 30, then we had to do a sample blog entry, then they interviewed 5 and I was the one they chose. So no pressure!

Apparently I didn’t say anything stupid in the interview, although I do remember when they told me there were four more people to interview the next day,  I said ‘don’t forget about me yeah!’ I guess it worked because they didn’t.  We also talked about feminism! (No castration though).

I also didn’t tell you that I wore a bright orange dress to the interview. I wanted to stand out. I matched my nails too. Therefore, my future advice to everyone is to wear a bright orange dress to your next job interview. If you don’t get the job that will definitely be the reason.

I think the key thing is that because they were friendly and fun, it made me feel more relaxed, so I was able to project myself in a better way than I have in the past.  When someone is more on your wavelength, you are more likely to communicate well and show your best self.  I know it sounds obvious, but I’ve just realised how important it is for you to click in the interview, as you will be spending a lot more time with them once you get the job. And sometimes it’s not you, it’s them.

I started on Monday, and so far I’ve been getting myself familiar with the company social media channels, doing a bit of tweeting and pinning, and working on some ideas for the blog. There’s a piano and plants in the office and they’ve been super lovely to me.

I’m also trying to start afresh in other areas of my life, such as tidying my flat, doing more exercise, eating healthy food, being better with money and so on. This is proving to be slightly more difficult. I want to be like Hermione from Harry Potter, but I end up being more like Neville Longbottom: the early years. (Ok I’m exaggerating a little). The point is it feels hard to change. Today (day off work) I wrote a plan of what I was going to do, with times next to each task, and didn’t exactly stick to it. This blog entry was supposed to be done at 2.30pm. According to my time plan, I’m supposed to have just finished home yoga.

I did do a few things on the list though, and that’s a start. So I’m not going to feel too disheartened. Plus there are 5 hours left before I have to sleep. That’s loads of time! *opens Facebook*

But seriously, I will let you know how it all goes. *Ticks ‘write blog entry’ off list*