I never cease to be amazed by the way that the inner workings of my head conspire sometimes to throw a rusty nail under the wheels of my momentum. It’s ridiculous and it just drives home to me how much of a work in progress I really am.
As the blog continues to grow and new people find us, and as my weight loss slowly becomes a bit more noticeable, I’ve enjoyed more than my fair share of genuine support and compliments lately, you know? But it’s probably fair to say that lovely as they are, they’ve lulled me into a false sense of security. This isn’t easy. And I don’t have it in the bag.
This week is a case in point. I clearly didn’t learn from the last time my subscription notifications were invaded by gremlins – nobody died, and eventually the issue got fixed after winding me right up for a couple of days. It works perfectly maybe three times out of five, so it needs constant attention, and this must be the third or fourth time it’s gone tits up completely but it always gets resolved eventually…nothing to get in a sweat about, right?
So how come last night, during a long and frustrating exchange of emails between me and the technical folk who host my blog, for whom English doesn’t seem to be their first language and who can’t seem to understand what the issue is, I thought that eating an entire sleeve of Jaffa Cakes would somehow help make the situation better?
Twenty four smart points – out of a daily allowance of 38 – spent on crap for no reason other than I was pissed off that I couldn’t get anyone to just bloody fix it. I couldn’t even go back and double-check in my weight watchers thingamabob that I had enough weekly points left to cover my wobble, because this false sense of security has seen me more and more often totting things up in my head instead of using the tools I have to hand.
The tools are there to keep right on top of what I’m eating. My head on the other hand has a very selective memory, ably assisted by the asshole and although I’m quite good at sums, I’m even better at forgetting what’s on the list of stuff I’ve eaten that needs to be added up. So I think I had enough weekly points left to get away with the Jaffa Cakes but it’s really twisting my melon that I won’t know for sure.
Just look at how many my buttons are available for pushing right now. Control, because I can’t make it work. Patience, as in I don’t have any and it’s been broken for three days now. Frustration, because I can’t make the clever blokes understand what’s wrong and they keep asking me the same questions and going round in a loop with the same answers which don’t bloody fix it, and most of all the fact that it’s not perfect is driving me bat-shit crazy.
So it turned me into a basket case and resulted in the unfortunate incident with a sleeve of Jaffa Cakes that I don’t especially even like, I mean they’re chewy and sweet and all that but have never been one of my go to foods. The dog, who was sitting on my knee as I sulked in the armchair and fed my face with one after the other watched closely but he wore a resigned look and didn’t even bother to drool, I mean his doggy intuition told him that none of them had his name on.
They weren’t worth it. And the fact that I’d vaporised a year’s supply just added to my very sour mood. Eating the Jaffa Cakes was never going to resolve the issue, and the sodding thing is indeed still on the blink. Me, I’ve kicked the rusty nail to the side of the path and today I’ll keep on moving forward.
More importantly I’ll keep on doing the work, because times like this show me exactly how far I still have to go 🙁
