Today’s been one of those days where I’ve got on my own nerves. I woke up at around 7am and cussed myself for waking too early on a day when I didn’t need to be at work. After practically frog-marching my head back to sleep, it was well after 10am before my eyelids dared to try again, at which time I cussed myself a second time for sleeping too long. Of course it didn’t occur to me that I could have set my alarm for the time I was hoping to wake up…that would have been too simple, right?
After grumbling to myself that I’d wasted a chunk of the day, I proceeded to make myself some breakfast and waste a chunk more of it by watching TV and mooching on-line. Then I fixed some lunch and burned another couple of hours. It was only when Charlie’s dog stare became so uncomfortably persistent that I forced myself to get dressed and go out and walk him. It was the very last thing I wanted to do, to the point where I almost didn’t.
To be honest, I’ve got an issue with that. I’m mad. All the way around our usual three mile circuit I’ve been battling the Asshole voice who is in fine fettle today. I feel really frustrated that some days, despite being eight and a half months into this regime it still doesn’t feel like my new normal. My head seems very quick to forget that I’ve taken a big step away from the life I was living before and still tries every trick in the book to throw that rusty nail under my wheels.
In times gone by my Bank Holiday Monday would have been spent in the armchair, and the Asshole voice has been busy trying to stir up resentment that today it wasn’t possible. And a few of the barbs have hit home, you know? For God’s sake woman you’re not a machine…it’s the only day you’ve had completely to yourself and there’s no good reason why you can’t just relax and kick back…
Listening to that, and buying into it is what allowed me to languish in my big fat leather recliner until well after 2pm. Shaking myself out of that reverie was tough, and had it not been for the doggy death stare I might have still been there now. That same voice followed me all the way around our eventual walk, pointing out just exactly how much my knee was hurting today where it hasn’t so much recently. Take an early left and head for home, this isn’t doing you any good.
Of course it was doing me good, you fucking ejit. This whole thing is doing me good. It’s a shame that my head doesn’t always get with the programme but seriously, dude, the only reason I used to spend so much time in that armchair is because it was the only place in the world that I could get comfortable. Because I was so fat. Because outside of working hours I practically lived in the armchair. Because I couldn’t get up and walk the dog for three yards without hurting, never mind three miles.
Today, I could. And I might have had the Asshole voice playing on a loop in my head, and my knee might have randomly started aching a bit but in the grand scheme of things it hardly matters that it took me a bit longer than usual to get my motor running today…the fact is I did, eventually, because I can.
Remembering things I couldn’t do before, and the fact that now I have choices where before I didn’t…that helps, on days like this 🙂
