Charity Bag Fury, Mount Vesuvius, Scorn For Sport & Mind thoughtz

My week in a rather large nutshell

Friday brings PMS. Joy.

A recent symptom it has decided to bestow upon me is sore, swollen gums as well as all the usual delightful things. I also had a dream that I went back to my old job it was more of a nightmare, I woke up in a cold sweat.

I was a bit rattled by the uncharacteristic negativity I was feeling, but I was determined to push through. I got up, made myself a cup of tea, did some meditation, did my morning reflection, read my daily stoic & set my intentions for the day, but I wasn’t feeling my usual sense of satisfaction. It was annoying me.

The ring doorbell jangled to let me know someone was approaching our front door, the annoyance that hadn’t yet subsided, racing back to the surface, when I realised who it was.

Charity Bag Man.

After lockdown, when clearly I didn’t have enough to moan about, I decided to order a no junk mail sticker for my letterbox. Junk mail never bothered me before, but I developed a passionate dislike for junk mail. Especially the plastic clothes bags for charity.

Why? Because charity bag man is the only one who ignores my no junk mail sticker. It’s on my actual letterbox, he can’t miss it. He is deliberately defying my sticker.

I stopped myself mid-mind rant. Why does the charity bag man annoy me so much? In the grand scheme of things, does it really matter? I decided to allow Charity Bag Man to live to see another day.

I went to meet my friend for a morning coffee, although we both had coke zeros. We sat on a bench and had a catch-up, but I felt annoyed that my friend, who I hadn’t seen for ages, had not got the best version of me, the version from any other day this week, not today’s miserable version?!!?!

When I got home, I swung between feeling flat to snappy to tearful. Round and round it went. My brain wasn’t functioning properly, I tried to put the milk on the kettle base, I tried to cook dinner with the oven at the wrong temperature and I kept getting up to do things and then forgetting what. I just wanted Chocolate & ice cream.

The husband went out to take the boys to the cinema and I decided there was only one thing for it. I went on Just Eat and spent some of my precious money on ordering myself a chocolate sundae.

I had just settled down to watch Everything I know about love when the awaited delivery arrived.

It was huge. I’m pretty sure it was meant for at least two people, although after checking the menu again, it didn’t say.

I gave it a good go but stopped before I could add vomiting to the list of things that had gone wrong that day. I will be putting exercise on my list of intentions for this week.

Saturday brings a much-needed lie-in and less food! Although a medieval banquet would be less food at this point.

We were invited to a bbq at the besties, but both boys were off on cinema trips with their friends and I was covered in hormonal spots and my gums still hurt so I decided to stay at home and hide until I felt less monstrous.

The husband and I sat in the garden enjoying the sun with Toby and later, our usual Saturday night Indian takeaway.

On Sunday, I still couldn’t shake the grey cloud that’s been looming the past few days. I find that I am teary and a cloak of gloom hangs from me like a wet raincoat. I keep reminding myself that this is just hormones, it will pass and I just need to keep going.

All those positive words that have tripped so easily off of my tongue lately, feel lifeless and I feel like an imposter trying to boost the morale of others when mine is so low. Thankfully, today’s writing is about true crime so now cheerfulness is required.

Monday brings a slightly better mood. I am up and about later than normal but have a productive day. I get my lashes done, walk up to the shop to buy some rolls for lunch, sit in the garden writing and do part of an online SEO course to avoid the husband’s relentless onslaught of sport on the TV whilst he’s working.

There is NEVER a day that there isn’t sport on the TV in our house and as someone that used to quite enjoy watching some sports, I can honestly say if I never see another bat or ball ever again, I will die a happy woman!

Tuesday brings sunshine in the sky and to my mind. The grey clouds have finally dispersed, hurrah!

I spend my morning reading Medium articles and find that after commenting on 5 (I have decided on 5 in the morning and 5 in the evening each day) I don’t want to stop.

I was surprised to find how much I am enjoying interacting with complete strangers who share a mutual love of writing. It makes me want to rush through my other tasks so I can get back to reading and clapping for others

I was messaging my good friend Tanya and she said something that hit me.

Life is better when you have more of a “fuck it” attitude.

What she meant was, and I fully agree, that when you don’t attach any emotion to something you want in life, when you have the attitude of “if it happens it happens, if it doesn’t, fuck it” life tends to work out better.

I pondered on this for a bit. I had been focusing on my lack of things lately, which if you like me, believe in the law of attraction, this is a big no-no. I decided I needed to get myself back on track and put my focus elsewhere.

The husband goes to play golf in the evening, I’m not usually impatient for him to leave but if I have to listen to another grunt from a Wimbledon tennis player, I will scream!

I spend the evening, learning, researching and writing. I have never worked so hard and felt so fulfilled at the same time. It’s brilliant, but I am conscious that I must take more breaks and not devote my entire time to this, there must be some downtime.

On Wednesday, I am woken at an ungodly hour by the high-pitched screams of a fox. I try to send myself off back to sleep with a true-crime podcast on my blue tooth sleep mask, but it is too late, my brain is awake and ticking over.

I get up, much to Toby’s delight, make a cup of tea and snuggle with a blanket in my chair. The magical morning sky at 4:30 am helps me to forgive the screeching fox.

I manage to get myself back to sleep for an hour or so and try to read some articles on Medium. All I see are articles about working and earning money which serves as a constant reminder that I am doing neither.

The anxiety bubbles and rises and I eventually find myself in tears. I am working. I am working harder than ever before, I’m working the minute I open my eyes until I fall asleep and even then my brain can be on a constant loop.

I want so desperately to have a day where I can just be, but I can’t because I feel like if I stop, it means I will have to go back to a job that I dread getting up for and whilst that was ok for the last 20 odd years, I never knew any different, I never believed I would be able to spend my days doing something I truly love.

But now I do and the thought of leaving that behind is pretty soul-destroying. I remind myself that I am probably still tired, so I should try not to think about it too much today.

Instead, I spend the entire day, doing everything but writing, or reading about writing. I have a bath, I do some chores, I watch a few films, thankful that I have started writing my articles 2 days in advance and just need to schedule them to post.

Another lie-in on Thursday! I wake up at 7:30 and the husband brings me tea in bed! This is going to be a good day.

I felt fresh and revitalised, until a couple of hours later when my phone lit up. I recognise that number, that’s the consultancy that cocked up my job, the one that messed me about and then told me they would call me back and never did.

I let it ring, I didn’t know what would have come out of my mouth if I had answered. There was a voicemail, no acknowledgement of completely ghosting me a few weeks ago, just chat about another role.

I was fuming and whilst I do need to go back to work, I had decided I was going to wait until I got back from holiday. So now, not only was I annoyed at her audacity, I was annoyed that she had unsettled me again when I had only just calmed down.

I go to the besties for lunch, we sit in her beautiful garden discussing our “mindthoughtz” as she put it and my mood is lightened once again, we have clearly grown up as neither of us had a glass of wine and it was all very civilised. Well, civilised for us.
2022-07-08 07:05:00

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