Tag Archives: hob-nobs

This Too Will Pass.

Biggest struggles, In the here & now, , ,

hamster

Oh boy…where do I start with this one. So I’m having a really bad day. Actually no that’s not entirely accurate, my day was fine, it’s more my evening that’s gone to shit. I’ll spare you the detail, but safe to say I’m in the middle of one of the toughest weeks of my life. I’m dealing with the aftermath of someone else’s bad choices, not my fault but a massive strain nonetheless and under normal circumstances I’d have vaporised at least a couple of packets of hobnobs as soon as I got in from work.

It’s a familiar pattern and I know you guys will get it. Right now, as I type this I’m locked horns with the asshole in my mind who, unhelpfully keeps drawing my attention to the five packets of freeze dried sour cherries dipped in dark chocolate which are sitting in the door of the fridge. 15 points per pack, 5 points per 8 cherries. An occasional treat. Up to now, no problem. I can’t always get them, they’re a luxury that I adore and when I saw them I bought in bulk…after all I’m in the sweet spot right? They’ve been in there a month at least. No worries…until there’s cause to worry. I’ve come to bed, because I’m on the ropes after taking a proper battering from the asshole tonight.

I’m so used to eating my feelings. Strangely, I couldn’t eat what I’d cooked for dinner – slow braised pulled beef with broccoli. The dog got lucky, in fact he probably thinks it’s his birthday. He’s full fat and happy, snoring beside me on the bed as I write this. I reckon I’ve got an hour before the effects of  him eating human food work their way through his furry little pipes so I’m hoping I fall asleep quickly tonight. You know the way that cows are threatening the ozone layer by emitting regular bursts of methane..? My dog makes them look like rank amateurs. If I were a betting woman I’d put money on his ozone hole being considerably bigger than theirs. And given his insistence on spooning me on top of the duvet as I sleep, it’s safe to assume it’s going to be a stormy night.

So I had no appetite for dinner, but all I want to do now is to go eat my own bodyweight in freeze dried chocolate dipped cherries. I’m weathering the asshole-driven tornado for now…I came to bed, brushed my teeth twice and started writing. I’m in lockdown, but it’s the double-cheese-and-spring-onion sandwich dance all over again. I know it’ll pass, but right now the desire to throw my PJs back on and go downstairs to eat every last one of them is intense. I’m laid in bed fantasising about the bitter chocolate melting on my tongue and the way in which the sour cherry would make my ears laugh.

But I’m also thinking about  how shitty I’ll feel if I cave in. It might even tip me right out of the sweet spot…who knows if I’d be able to climb back in again. And, I’d have to tell you I’d done it.

I can’t do that. You’re making me accountable, you rotten lot.

Thank you. Because I’m not sure I’d be this strong without you 🙂

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Gremlins In The System

Biggest struggles, In the here & now,

gremlinsAnybody who’s been in my general vicinity over the last day or so may well have learned a few new words. Naughty words. I think the asshole has been on a recruitment drive and he’s drafted in reinforcements to help support the ‘get Dee back on the cake’ campaign. He’s flooded my widgets with technical gremlins who are getting right up my nose, and pushing me to that place where in times gone by I would have had a big fat tony bear tantrum followed by a packet of hobnobs.

I’m the world’s least tolerant person when it comes to stuff that doesn’t do what it’s supposed to do – especially when there’s no logic to it. If I drop something for example, and it stops working, I get it. I might not be happy about it, but I can see the cause and effect, and I understand why it broke. When something just plain old stops working for no apparent reason, well that’s like a personal challenge…I can’t leave it alone.

And lets just imagine that it relates to something I don’t really understand to begin with – I’m thinking technology – and I am that person, the one who pushes the button in a dozen different ways thinking it will have a different outcome before the penny drops that it has in fact gone kaput. For no reason.

I’ll press it softly. Then a bit harder. Then I’ll push it whilst holding down another random button. I might get the instructions out at this point just to check I’m pushing the right button to start with, even though I’ve been pressing the same button in the same way since I got it, without a problem. Then as the red mist descends I’ll push it several times in quick succession, by which time I’ve usually started muttering under my breath too in a kind of pincer-movement multi-tasking kind of way.

So now I’ve set the scene, you’ll begin to understand just how easy these gremlins are finding it to twist my melon. For those of you who have subscribed to my blog and have noticed that the daily email notifications have stopped appearing in your in-box..? Blame the gremlins. It makes no sense. Nothing has changed. No settings, no code, nothing at all…except I now have a flatteringly long list of people who like to ponder the latest post subject when it goes live.

Of course it worked fine when there was just half a dozen of my friends who were being supportive and who agreed to be guinea pigs for me. It even lulled me into a false sense of security by working fine for the first two weeks of being ‘live’ as the list was growing. Now? Lets just stop working for no reason at all. AAARGH!!!

However, did I reach for the hobnobs right away..? No. My strategy was to outsmart the asshole and his band of merry men by finding a workaround. So I sat, for an hour and a half, and copied the list of individual email addresses one by one into an email from my BOTSG email programme, figured out how to drop in a link to today’s post, composed a little ditty and pressed send, without one hobnob being consumed. Satisfied smile, take that asshole.

Aw Shit. After a succession of ‘pings’ into my inbox it became apparent that the asshole still held the winning hand. Because I’ve promised not to share anyone’s details and I’m uber-cautious about doing so, I had sent the email to myself, and copied every email address into the BCC field, so nobody could see who else had had the email. And in doing so had managed to convince my own email programme that I was in fact trying to SPAM you all so every single email was sent back to me with its tail between it’s legs. FFS!!!

So I must beg your patience, posse…I am working on it, and I’m sorry that your promised BOTSG nuggets aren’t reaching you on quite the regular basis I promised…I’ve just had a rather encouraging ‘ticket’ from a charming chap on the help desk of my web host who seems to be wielding his spanner and tinkering with stuff as we speak, so I’m still living in hope that I can beat the asshole at his own game and send the gremlins to annoy someone else.

In the meantime, if you’re on Facebook, and you ‘like’ the Break Out The Skinny Girl Facebook page, a link to the daily blog post will show up in your news feed, so that’s one way you won’t miss anything, whilst we’re sticking the wheels back on the widget.

On a positive note, I’m happy to report that no hobnobs were consumed in the midst of this meltdown!!

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Three-Way Tech Support

Biggest struggles, In the here & now, , ,

                                            notebook, and two persons on white background

So last night was traumatic. I am something of a muppet where technology is concerned and I have sweated over every page, widget and plug-in on my modest little website over the last 6 or so weeks. I’ve done it all myself, a labour of love and it feels all the more precious to me because it’s completely mine. But when I logged on last night to write a post, it didn’t work. I couldn’t get into the site at all, there was just huge error message on the screen.

So I waited for a bit, and it didn’t go away. Did all the usual stuff you know…pushed the same buttons again and again just a bit harder, thinking I might get different results…sound familiar?! Now bear in mind, my default setting when the shit hits the fan has always been to reach for cake. I could hear the asshole in my head yawning and having a good stretch as he woke up and started to take an interest.

So, I was worried on three fronts – firstly that my posse would wonder where I’d disappeared to…secondly that Crabby’s lovely readers would find me closed for business if they popped over to check out my blog after she’d very kindly lent her support by offering me a moment in the Cranky Fitness spotlight – and finally that I wouldn’t be able to post anything.

When I decided to blog my way to skinny, I promised myself that I’d be the best blogger I could possibly be. And that means posting consistently so that if I was lucky enough to pick up some company, you’d all know those words would be waiting for you at the point when you take time out of your day to check in and see what’s on my mind. Of course, being me I’ve taken that quite literally, and I even try and post at the same time every day (the asshole just chuntered something about OCD but I’m ignoring him).

I’m not going to lie, as it all started to go wrong I could feel that compulsion to eat – encouraged of course by the asshole who told me over and over “it’s an emergency so it’s ok,  just have a cup of tea and a couple of hobnobs…it won’t matter just this once .”  I ignored him. So he carried on. And on, and on.

I ended up having an on-line chat with a charming guy in India who did his best to help – not just some random bloke obviously, I mean someone from tech support for my web host. I narrowly avoided typing “SOD OFF ASSHOLE I’M NOT EATING HOBNOBS” in the conversation window because the asshole was pulling out all the stops, having recognised the amount of buttons on show for him to push whilst I was talking to the tech to the point where it was practically a three-way conversation.  Anyway, turns out the server was down and I just had to tough it out – so for anyone who wondered where I’d got to last night, I’m sorry yesterday’s post was late.

Of course now, without my stressy head on, and with the perspective of hindsight I can see I was acting like a total diva – shit happens woman, get over it. And it’s interesting how quickly the whole purpose I’m blogging got lost in the excitement of discovering that people seem to like my blog…I started it for me, as a way of being accountable, and it’s working. The rest, as they say, is gravy…note to self, don’t let go of that. I care about my blog, I care about my posse but most of all I can’t forget to care about me!

Anyway, I didn’t go near the biscuits in case you’re wondering, and the asshole has been licking his wounds today after I shoved him back in his box and slammed the lid shut. Once again, Me – 1, Asshole – 0.  And happily, normal service has resumed today 🙂

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