With me I mean. The ups and downs. The pinks and the blues. The firm decisions and the moments of weakness. The bold statements of here and now and the sentimental excuses of not doing it today. The countless times of restart ... just for a couple of days.
I try to do a bit of all. I try to be a bit of all. I fail with much grandeur in everything.
This time of the year, I turn to a green finger monster. Since early March I begin with the seeds. My usual ones are organic tomatoes, a special variety that comes only in Santorini island, arugula, parsley, dill, mint, oregano, spearmint, all kinds of different basils. Then its the flowers. I start some from seeds, others from bulbs, some from tiny plants I buy in the nursery and plan in huge pots expecting them to grow and fill them.
Then at exactly this time, I go our hunting for the perfect paints for my easter eggs. The house gets off its winter gear and becomes spring-ish. The second thick layers of curtains and the carpets are put away, the red, burgundy, dark green items get back to sleep and the more bright colours get out to cover the beds, the sofa. The dry pines and pumpkins and the tons of walnuts and other wintery "decorations" get back in their boxes and the sea shells, the flowers, the colourful vases get out to yell the obvious: its spring and we are bright!
The cooking becomes lighter, meat is less, strawberries fill the house with their scent and become liquer, marmalade, spoon sweet.
The beast in me awakes and I suddenly see my husband and allI think about is how to take him to bed, table, sofa, chair, bathtub, kitchen counter.
Yet, as I was leaving the office last night at 11.30, I was wondering who am I.
I put my seeds on and forget to water them. My home is still in winter gear. I am not sure I will even paint eggs this Easter. The six days I was looking forward to for our little escapade in Sofia's village have gone down to 4. Saturdays become an official working day from now on with a full 8 hrs at least. I eat well one day and like 4 pigs the next. I get on the treadmill two days in a row and then I forget its existance.
My last weigh in has not been re-checked. The batteries of the scale died and I still ask myself if this is good or bad. I wonder if getting on them and seeing the gain I can feel on my belly will make me get back on track or make me even more depressed.
I want to write in this blog and yet I restrain because I feel like Ms Pettish more than I feel like Ms Hustler.
I have not been a control person most of my life. I like to know the abouts but never have I been a control freak. Yet, I am in a point right now that I have control over nothing.
Did I tell you I called my therapist on Friday and begged him to change our session to 9 in the evening instead of 7.30 we had sceduled it for? he had the flu and although he was not easy,he finally accepted to wait for me for an hour and a half so I could make it. And at some point, during a meeting, I needed some papers so I went to my office to fetch them, and I saw 8 rings in my cell phone, all from him. And I then saw the time and it was 9.40! So I called him and I was well told off!
Yet, my team despises me for making them work longer and like 5 yo they keep on sabotaging the project, making intentional mistakes, "forgetting" things. And Ms Boss is in total panick that it will all go into total failure and makes us all more crazy than required.
I spent the weekend with lots of chocolate again. Of the finest quality of course. Champagne custard with fresh strawberries. Coconut panacota. Milk chocolate mousse with fresh raspberries. White chocolate with levanter pastry. Bitter chocolate mousse with chilli pepper. Luckily, the last one was the cause of such intense moans that my whole body awake looking for more pleasure. At least, i got the wife part right this weekend ;)
Bear with me, will you?