Starting Afresh: Take 2

I'm going to be brutally honest - January has been a bit shit for me.

Rather than being excited and enthusiastic about the whole 'fresh start' and 'chance to change my life' like I usually am - I'll admit that it's been a blur of bad choices, upset and a hopelessness that has almost become the norm in my day-to-day life.

And the worst thing is - I have no idea why.

I know that depression is a flaw in chemistry rather than character - but boy is it hard not to blame yourself when you're feeling low, you don't know what's wrong and basically nobody can help.

You can help yourself, that you know - if only you can build up the enthusiasm.

Mentally and physically.

And when you can't it just reinforces the fact that this is all your fault. You are to blame for all your problems. Real, imagined, mentally and physically.

Things have changed to some degree. Despite having quite a good mask, my boss pulled me aside at the beginning of the month and questioned me about how I was feeling. She has a surprising ability to see beyond the image I present to the world. It's both appreciated and bloody annoying.

Being a crier - I cried at work until she forced me to see a doctor.

So I did. And cried some more.

He gave me new pills - yay - and the number of a therapist - yuch!

I don't like this second option for two reasons:

1) The first therapist I had was less than helpful. In fact, I'd go as far as to wonder how on earth she managed to get any kind of qualification to help those in need. Sheesh.

2) I'm an introvert. I. HATE. PHONES.

 

Last but not least in my tale of January is my weight.

As I'm sure I've moaned about before eloquently expressed previously, a couple of years ago I took a course of steroids to control my ulcerative colitis and ended up being a slave to the side effects. I.e. the munchies. Witness me ballooning by 2 stone.

Well, 2 stone turned into 3 and is continuing to creep up due to my sugar addiction and, well, my sheer laziness.

So January was a chance to get my eating under control and getting back to exercising.

February 1st is my first weigh in.

I decided to do a pre-weigh in today (January 31st) to see how I was doing.

The answer to that question was +5lb of not very well.

 

So that's it now - February begins the start of a new phase of my life.

My new mantra is this:

 

So that's me starting afresh - take 2!

10 Reasons to Read Romance

Reading has always been something that I loved to do. I was always the kid who would go back to school after the summer holiday with their reading sheet filled in on both sides (and an extra piece of paper for good measure) with all the books I had devoured.

I did suffer a lull when I hit my teens. At the time when I was a teenager there was a distinct lack of books that were aimed at my age range - more grown-up than a children’s book but not as ‘boring’ as all those adult books (please read in a know-it-all teenage voice!).

And then my mum introduced me to romance novels…

I should use this moment to thank my mum. The writers, printers, publishers and my bank manager would also like to thank my mum for the fact that her introduction has led to me single handedly keeping the romance industry afloat!

And so my obsession began.

And this obsession makes me happy. So, as the first part of my New Year’s resolution towards happiness, I have committed myself to reading a book every week.

And it’s even official since I’ve memorialised it by signing up for the reading challenge on GoodReads. Eeeek!

So, with that in mind, here are 10 reasons why it’s good to read (and specifically romance).

1. Stress reduction

I’m sure everyone at one time or another has felt stressed out - whether it’s for something huge like interviewing for a new job or something small likes the fact that someone continues to leave the toilet seat up. Or it could just be a general anxiety and stress over everyday living. Stress doesn’t discriminate.

But no matter how much stress you have or how often you have it - it is now scientifically proven that getting lost in a good book does you good and can actually reduce stress levels by 68%.

Read for just six minutes and your heart rate slows down, your muscles relax, your blood pressure lowers and your cognitive function increases. Reading works even better at reducing stress than listening to music, exercising or having a cup of tea. But I would still have a cup of tea when you sit down with your book like the doctors have now ordered you to do. Result.

2. Book boyfriends

Not only is your book boyfriend sexy, intelligent, understanding but you can have more than one of them on the go at any one time and no-one will think anything about your morals or character. You could be in bed with Jamie Fraser, on a carriage ride with Mr Darcy or even visiting the hardware store with Christian Grey - all at the same time. *swoon*

3. You will learn to read and speak good

When I was a teen and first started reading romance books, I kept a notepad by my bed where I wrote down all the words that I didn’t know. I wrote down a lot of words.

Over the years my vocabulary, spelling and grammar have increased exponentially and I feel properly smart now. All from reading romance novels.

As a bonus, if you prefer historical romance then you will find yourself well versed in words and phrases from days of old.

Conversations become so much more fun.

“Why, that fair damsel o’er there indubitably has a gigglemug.”

4. Happily. Ever. After.

If you like to read stories where the main character dies, where there’s some great moral lesson to be learned, or when the girl and guy can’t make it work, then that’s absolutely fine.

For me though, I have enough depression in my life that I don’t need to be reading of more sadness, tragedy and woe.

I want uplifting, happy stories where I don’t have to worry about what the outcome will be because I know it will end happily. It always ends happily and that’s the way I like it. In romance novels it always snows on Christmas, one of the couple always comes into a fortune right when it’s most required, and wind makes hair tousle rather than tangle. If that’s not happiness I don’t know what is.

5. To live vicariously through the characters

I’ve done a lot of things.

• I’ve owned a number of cupcake shops without having to bake or speak to any customers.
• I’ve been a lawyer without having to go to school for half my life.
• I’ve lived in the 19th century while still having access to good plumbing and decent medical care
• I’ve been kidnapped by a pirate without having to expose my hair to the sea air. Frizz - shudder!
• And I’ve fallen in love more times than I can count all because I read romance.

6. Love is awesome

What’s lovelier than love?

Love is the strongest force on earth and there is absolutely no shame in wanting to read and revel in it every day of your life. It’s what most of us, man or woman, aspire to attain after all.

7. You will realise you’re not weird after all

Have you ever worried that you’re a little bit odd? That you think or say things that other ‘normal’ people would never dream of? That no-one else is as strange as you are?

Well, when you read a romance you will find the heroines are far from perfect. They all have quirks and foibles but guess what? - the hero loves them anyway.

And as an added bonus, reading worlds, characters and scenarios dreamed up in someone else’s head will help your brain expand and, added with your own quirks, will make you a whole lot weirder than you ever dreamed possible. But by the time you’re addicted to reading, you’ll realise that being weird is absolutely bloody perfect!

8. You can use it as covert cover

While reading is definitely fun, sometimes being seemingly engrossed in a book can reap other rewards. Peeking over the top of your book in a restaurant or train station can help you covertly ogle good looking men. People are also more likely to assume that your engrossment means you aren’t fully concentrating on conversations going on around you. Sit and read your book in the office lunch room and you might just catch folk at the next table divulging a juicy piece of workplace gossip!

Or, at the very least, people will (hopefully) not talk to you if you have your nose stuck in a book.

9. You can make new friends

I’m actually not talking about friends in books (as good as those are) but you will soon find yourself able to talk to people about things that others have no clue what you’re talking about. “Oh, did you see that Jane has left Mr Rochester’s house? She’s maaaaad at him!” Yes, in no time at all you’ll be confusing characters and events in your book with real life. When you start inadvertently speaking about this in public, or on social media, someone else will invariably join in and boom - you have a friend for life. A friend you can talk to about romance novels! Yay!

10. Medicine for the soul

I love this statement from Maya Rodale: “Critics say romance novels are fluffy, escapist literature--as if that's a bad thing. I say romance novels are like a cold medicine that lets you get a good night's sleep or a pain reliever that takes the edge off your headache. They're the little bit of help and hope we need to carry on.”

To paraphrase: reading romance is like medicine for the soul.

Starting Afresh

I love New Year.

I love the possibilities. The chance to start anew and reinvent yourself. To make those dreams a reality and become the person that you’ve always wanted to be.

It’s strange then, that I find it really hard to start things off and get things moving.

Planning is my forte. I absolutely love it.

But then it’s time to start with my grand plans and I get cold feet.

I’m not actually sure why that is but I find it difficult to get the momentum to get things going.

Perhaps I’m afraid that if I begin then I’m accountable for how it goes including potential failure. I’m a perfectionist, after all, and don’t do well when things don’t go perfectly. And yes, I know that’s ridiculous and unrealistic.

But this year will be different. 2016 will be my year; a year of changes, wonder, dreams coming true and ultimately happiness.

And that is my new year’s resolution for 2016: find happiness.

That’s not to say that I won’t have supplementary resolutions but they’ll all be in pursuit of my main goal this year - to be happy.

How I get there is obviously fundamental but for the moment I’m satisfied with my primary resolution is ‘simply’ to be happy.

Back to Work: Stair Master!

Well, it’s hard to believe that this week was the first working week of 2015.

As much as I adore Christmas (and always enjoy being able to laze about the rest of the time in clothes I would be mortified to be seen in public wearing), I have to admit to a wee bit of relief that I’m back to routine. I do like a routine.

Anyway, to celebrate my return to work, I decided to do a quick update of how my first week went.

I say week yet I’m a loud and proud part-timer so my week consists of just 3 days. Not even that - but saying two and a half days just sounds smug!

It’s a brand new year so, of course, that means lots of wild and fanciful thoughts about being a ‘new’ person at work and being all organised, professional and etc.

*Coughs*

That lasted the walk up the stairs to my office.

The reason? One of my work resolutions was to walk to my fifth floor office rather than taking the lift.

Yes - fifth floor.

Nutter.

However, there were some positives to this plan. I would be a little more healthy and I wouldn’t have to make small talk in the lift. For five whole floors.

To show you how much the second thing is a problem for me, you should know four things about me if you don’t already.

1. I am an introvert.

2. I have depression.

3. On top of the above two things above, I am a little bit odd.

4. I’m not capable of hiding that I’m a little bit odd while stuck in a steel box with strangers.

Anyway, my first mission was to find the stairs. No really - I had no idea where the stairs were. (I don’t want anyone thinking that I hadn’t received any kind of induction at my work place. I assured my colleagues that if the fire alarm went off, I am not the kind of person that would fold my arms and refuse to leave my seat and follow them safely out of the building because I hadn’t been told the exact route to take! Even I’m not that odd.)

Upon finding the stairs, I was pleased to see that the early hour meant they were deserted. I have a funny feeling that the first three items from the list above would apply when forced to walk up five flights of stairs with a stranger, too.

So up the stairs I went.


Ground floor: Look at me going up the stairs. I’m awesome at resolutions! *Smug smile*

First floor: Woop - first floor! I am going to be sexy and svelte in days.

Second floor: How does that say ‘second floor’? I’ve been walking for hours. Can I speak to a manager, please? No, never mind - just keep going.

Third floor: Seriously - who turned down the oxygen? Now I know what people who tackle Everest feel like.

Fourth floor: *Breathing heavily and on hands and knees* Must. Keep. Going.

Fifth floor: I made it! I’m here! I’m alive! *Dripping with sweat, I lie on the landing for a while to compose myself before entering the office.*



I wheeze out a ‘happy new year’ to my colleagues as I pass their desks as quickly as my shaking legs will take me.

Slumping at my desk, my mascara has run, my hair is sodden, I have droplets of sweat beading on my brow. My breathing is laboured and far too loud for the occasion. I look for my bag only to realise I’ve sat on it and squished my sandwich as I’ve fallen into my chair. My lunch now resembles a pancake of bread and meat mixed with some fluff from my skirt. Yum!

My boss comes over and asks where I’ve been - I’m 20 minutes late. Then she sees my white pallor and beads on my upper lip. “Oh - you’ve been ill, poor thing.”

Yes, that’s it. I have been ill. Very ill.

There’s no way I’ll tell anyone the truth. The truth that at the bottom of the stairs I was early, poised, professional, decent and dry.

So much for my work resolutions!


And for reference, these are the pretty outfits that I thoroughly ruined this week with my blood, sweat, sweat, sweat and tears.

Let's Be Honest

Before Christmas, I decided that I was going to start my New Years resolutions early and, more specifically, my biggest mission for 2015 around getting fit and healthy.

So - I checked out my local sports centre to see what classes were on.

My eyes lit on Boxercise starting in January. The reasons for my like are two-fold.

1) I like that it starts in January just in time for kicking off resolutions. I also hate the thought of joining a class mid way through. It would be like starting school and being the new girl that comes in once everyone already has a partner for going to the loo, or science, or whatever it is kids these days get paired for. (Did I really just say “kids these days”? How old am I?)

2) I enjoy it on the wii.


Then I noticed a class called RPM also starting in January. I don’t know what it stands for but it’s some sort of spinning class. It might even just stand for revs per minute - although that wouldn’t be particularly inventive if it was.

How exciting! I could get crazy with this spinning malarky and have a hot bod by February. I’d be one of those girls that comes out of the class a little bit shiny (not sweaty - shiny!) with the towel placed nonchalantly over my shoulders. Me and all my equally spandex friends (which I found in the class) would pretend not to notice as the guys drooled. Sipping from my water bottle that matched perfectly with my designer workout gear and trainers, I would feel invigorated after class - ready for my run home. All the while a catchy tune would play over the intercom like the soundtrack to a trendy movie.

Instead, I was laying vegged out on the sofa on a Wednesday afternoon before Christmas, having pigged out on my 3 course work Christmas lunch. And the mini mince pies and coffee. The telly was on, I was in my comfiest (read: unflattering and disgusting) comfy trousers and a jumper watching telly when… I suddenly remembered the fact that I’d signed myself up for the free taster session of RPM taking place the next morning.

Bugger.

I really didn’t want to go.

Now there are plenty of excuses that I could have used for not going.

It’s stormy and snowy out and I had decided to walk to the centre. I shouldn’t go for the good of my health.

If I enjoyed the class I’d want to return in January - that costs money that I don’t really have to spare. I shouldn’t go for the good of my finances.

I’d been at work for most of the week and I didn’t want to upset Tilly further by leaving her alone (and doing so on foot no less!). I shouldn’t for the mental health of my dog.

What if my heart exploded due to over exertion? Yes, this is a true fear I had and it doesn’t need further explaining.

But I decided to be honest…

I just didn’t want to go.

And that was when I realised that I was trying to be someone I wasn’t.

I’m not a gym bunny. I will never be rocking the spandex. I will never get excited by the thought of taking a run down to the gym to workout. Or even worse running home after the fact.

I’m not the kind of girl to have a line of guys drooling. I wouldn’t spend my money on designer anything. And if there was a theme tune playing for me, it would be more likely something cheesy than something trendy.

And do you know what? - admitting that was really freeing.

I immediately phoned the sports centre and cancelled my place at the session. I then went on the internet and closed the tab for the 10k run in April and all the other ridiculous ideas that I had when I thought I was the Malibu Barbie version of myself.

I don’t want to do any of these things. No sirree.

Then it hit me - it’s really no wonder I’ve been failing at this healthy lifestyle thing. I start up something I’m not committed to, don’t enjoy it but stick at it because I feel I should like it. I feel like the ‘perfect’ girl would and should enjoy it. Eventually, and I mean eventually, I decide to give it up. Then comes the berating, the negative talk and the feeling that I have failed and am some sort of quitter. And worse.

Instead of being back at square one, I’m at square minus one.

So I’m now determined to do something I want to when it comes to being healthy and exercising. Not something I wish I liked but something I actually do. Then I won’t quit because I won’t want to.

I’m not the perfect girl - I don’t even think she exists. Or maybe she just does in adverts and movies.

Either way - I don’t want to be perfect. Perfect would be far too much pressure.

I might still go to the Boxercise class but I’m going to have a good long think before I commit myself. Is this the real me that wants to take the class? Or is this the me I wish I was?

It’s time to be honest.

It’s time that the person I want to be is just myself.

Happy New Year: The Plan for 2015

Happy New Year!

I love the new year. Not the actual celebration - I’m not a partying kind of gal, you see - but the promise of fresh starts, new chances and a clean slate to reinvent yourself into the person you’ve dreamed (dreamt?) of being. It’s the ultimate Monday start over!

In honour of this, I thought I would write down some small and fun resolutions that I’m hoping to do this year. First I thought I should write down 2014 small resolutions and then I realised:

• That would be ridiculous!
• Who has the time? Or the inclination?
• How long would that blog post actually be?
• If I was going to do that - it should be 2015 resolutions (day 2 and I’ve already forgotten which year we’re on!)
• I would definitely fail miserably at even remembering them all, let alone completing them all!

365 is similarly too many, as is 100, so I’ve settled for 50. Not too many, not too few - just right.

Having had time to think about it, I’ve sensibly cut it down to 15. No sense in being overly ambitious! Or overly stupid! 100 - sheesh!

So here we go with my 15 resolutions:

1. Like what I see in the mirror

2. Commit to doing some things to kick my depression in the bahooky

3. Eat good, tasty, nutritious meals and food

4. Go on at least 5 dates

5. Learn to love myself (it’s the greatest love of all!)

6. Move myself into a shape that I feel good in

7. Grow more of my own veggies

8. Visit more historic houses and gardens

9. Keep my job after November

10. Find a great group of friends

11. Blog more often

12. Get that romance book written

13. Spend more quality time with my family

14. Get another tattoo

15. Sew more of my own clothes

I know, I know - very few of these could be considered SMART objectives. Perhaps that’s why I like New Year’s resolutions so much - they can be as rigid or as airy fairy as you like. And I like me some airy fairy!

Some might say that you cannot truly measure your success if you don’t have specific, measurable goals yet after I've woken up, I see it differently. Why set yourself up to fail at something that is supposed to be a happy way to better yourself? Nah - I’d rather be able to look back at the end of 2015 and rate it as a success. And, by giving myself every chance to succeed - I’m already half way to completing my dreams for this year!

That sounds like a damn fine plan to me!

Now get to it, sister!

This year...

I always love resolutions and the start of a fresh New Year.

There two images show just how I'm feeling at the moment.

 

Time to plan...

I'm sure I've mentioned just one or two times that I love the fresh start that new year brings. I watch Hogmanay on the telly, kiss my loved ones with the bells and then am straight off to bed. No hootenanny for this gal - not on this day, anyway!

So, I've made my dream board for 2014 and now it's time to change it into a planning board. What is it that they say - a dream without a plan is just a wish.

This year is going to be AWE-SOME! So I need to find out where I'm going and get going on that path.

 

J x

Christmas can start...

The last day of work (I say work but I can guarantee not a soul did a shred of work today in my organisation - myself included!) was today and now the Christmas celebrations can properly begin. Yay!

I also have this feeling that 2014 is going to be an AWESOME year so, for that fact, I'm quite looking forward to Hogmanay, too! For once!

As I move forward, this is what I need to remember - every cloud has a silver lining.

5 more sleeps 'til Santa!!

B x