Where have I been, did you ask?

Raechelle commented that she was wondering where I'd been....

Well, I've been busy doing this and buying this and renovating this....and this.... and obsessing over this.

:o)

I've also been doing a lot of work on retraining my wayward subconscious, with the help of a psychologist. And while that's been very successful, I haven't really felt much like blogging about it. It's all still a work in progress.

There are things I want to talk about, but I can't seem to get the words out in any way that makes sense just yet. So I'd rather write nothing than bang out a rubbish post, just for the sake of it. I'll get it all sorted eventually and I'll share, don't worry. Probably more than you wanted to know. LOL.

I am feeling reassured, having been informed that I'm (officially) not crazy. Yeah, that's always good to know.

More, please!

If one more person says to me "Ugh! This hot weather is AWFUL. I wish it would cool down" I might just smack them in the head.

We have just suffered through a LONG, cold, wet, windy and completely miserable winter, and I am thriving on the sunshine and high temperatures. 30 degrees is just about perfect in my world.

Yes, some rain would be nice, but I'm enjoying being able to go for a walk, take clients outdoors and not be spending squillions of dollars on gas for heating our giant-sized house.

Winter makes me cold, depressed and crabby. Sunshine and warmth lifts my spirits, and I don't have to wear twelve layers of clothing (and that's just to bed!).

So if you're thinking of complaining to me about the heat, just shut it, OK? You've been warned....

Still standing

I headed off to Flemington today for my annual Oaks pilgrimage with my bestest friend. We used all our fingers and calculated that we've been doing this for 16 years now. Apparently some old biddy was interviewed on the news the other day who'd been going to the Melbourne Cup for 50 years. We plan to try to top that record, even if we're tootling around in motorised wheelchairs.

I employed my newly developed laid-back attitude and pulled an outfit out of the wardrobe last night. Which happened to be a $700 Anthea Crawford silk dress and coordinated satin jacket from 2005... I figured that at that price, I need to wear it approximately 97 more times to get maximum value from it. A quick rummage amongst the stuff on the top of my wardrobe shelf and I had a hat and shoes to match. No handbag though, dammit. I remember now, I chucked my pink handbag shortly after we moved here.

This morning I made sandwiches and packed them with some bottled water, got dressed and made up and only had a minor hissy fit about my hair, which would not do what I wanted it to, and another about the black handbag that I was forced to carry, which matched nothing in my outfit. Then Jeeves (a.k.a. Bike Boy) drove us to the station and we were all set.

This photo isn't from today, but could have been; the wind was completely feral:



I lost the grand sum of $2.46 on the tote, which I consider a resounding success. We sat in the sun by the entrance and watched a parade of fashion disasters go by, which was highly entertaining. We drank champagne - Yellowglen at $32 a bottle is bloody highway robbery, but what are you gonna do? And we ate our sandwiches, drank a couple of hot drinks and kept ourselves nice.

For those who aren't quite sure where the lines are drawn in the fashion and behaviour stakes, there's some good advice here. My best tip: if your skirt is likely to be mistaken for a belt, it's too short. No seriously. I swear I saw a couple of headbands being worn as skirts too.

We left before the last race, and last year's debacle with the trains (see below) was thankfully not repeated, so Jeeves collected us from the station and had us home in time for dinner. Which he also cooked.



All up, it was a relaxing and fun day. I left my phone home (oops) but it turns out, I can live without it for a day. Who knew? And I don't have sunburnt boobs, blisters on my feet or vomit in my hair, so I'm calling it a success.

Hello, there!

This week has been a bit of a turning point for me. Somewhere amongst all the stress and sadness and mixed-up crap in my head, I lost touch with my body. Not that my body and I are actually separate beings or anything (I'm not nuts, OK?)... But I was so overwhelmed by the noise in my head that I stopped noticing the messages that my simple old physical self was sending out.

Let me tell you, that's not a good place to be. Things start to get really messed up if you stop paying attention to your basic human needs for too long.

It can be easy to miss a signal if you're not used to looking for them. It's not like a giant billboard appears in front of your face saying: Oy! I need a few days off from training. Or a clown with a megaphone yelling: Dammit, woman! Will you stop with the running around at a psychotic pace and get some sleep!

You need to be paying attention to notice the signs and figure out what they mean. So this week I've given myself permission to have the week off from training. Not that I've been going hell for leather lately anyway, but psychologically, PLANNING time off from training is a lot different to MISSING training because you're too tired or too busy or emotionally drained. It might seem like semantics, but trust me, it's a huge difference.

I also decided to make a big effort to pay attention to my hunger. Not surprisingly, since I'm not training, I'm not as hungry as usual. (Wow, big revelation there!) My big bowl of oats and whey for breakfast has amazingly been holding me over till lunchtime. And once or twice I haven't needed an afternoon snack either. The usual time rolls around and I ask myself "Am I hungry?" If the answer is no, I keep on doing what I'm doing, checking again in an hour or so. It's been interesting.

On top of all that, I've made a big effort with sleep, pulling out every trick I have to ensure an undisturbed night and I've been managing eight hours on a regular basis. Of course, my body would choose this week to drop a heap of fluid, so I'm usually up at 3:00am or so for a pee. *sigh* I'm looking on that as a positive.

My body is thanking me by being less tired - although I'm SO ready for bed by 9:30pm - and by fitting into my pants more easily (yay!). But the real payback is a sense of calm that's persisted all week.

I'm heading into the weekend feeling pretty relaxed and refreshed, and I'm looking forward to putting together a plan for next week's training. I have the week off, so there's going to be no stress involved in fitting that in. Can't wait!

Something tells me I need a holiday...

As I was walking through the lift lobby on my way out of the office this arvo, I swear the sign next to the lift button said "Are you wearing your underpants?"

I had to do a double-take and discovered that it was one of our many Big Brother security notices, and actually said "Are you wearing your building pass?"

Good thing I'm off work for the next nine days. Maybe my brain will regrow in that time...

Mission accomplished

The party went extremely well, in spite of my not doing my usual insane over-achieving thing and running around frantically handmaking all the food and decorations and weaving extra chairs out of raffia. I made a conscious decision to NOT work myself into a stressed-out mess for once, so the planning went something like this:

Friday: Wander down to the party supplies shop to meet my sister and buy a pack of frozen finger food, plus a slab of chocolate cake. Cut up cake, put it in the fridge to defrost. Stick everything else in the freezer. Have at least seven phone conversations with my sister, checking on final details. Have a few wines.

Saturday: Train a client, answer some emails, faff around a bit, then finally start cleaning the house. Lose interest part way through and hide stuff in the laundry. Have a few wines.

Sunday: Get out of bed eventually, have breakfast, coffee, more coffee, and then get dressed and drive to Coles for the extra things we need. Decide NOT to make a batch of mini scones because we already have enough food to feed a small army battalion. Wonder if it's too early to have a few wines. Decide that it probably is. make some sandwiches, arrange food on plates, rearrange the furniture to accommodate 70 people.

After that it was a blur of greeting hordes of people, many of whom I hardly knew or had never met, heating finger food and handing trays to the nearest child - they were all on waiter duty - and giving umpteen people the grand tour of the house. And there may have been a few wines consumed, but I'm not telling.

Not changing the subject or anything, but how gorgeous are these little cakes from Paterson's?





And they were just as delicious as they look. Especially the chocolate ones, filled with mousse. Mmmm.

Oh...and Mum had a lovely time, and she didn't have to do a thing. :)

Plastic surgery

I've been joking a lot lately about the second head that I'm growing - No, I'm not turning into a Zaphod Beeblebrox lookalike or anything, I just have this lump in the middle of my forehead that won't disappear.

My GP diagnosed it as a sunspot thingie and froze it with liquid nitrogen back in July, but it stubbornly hung around. So today I consulted a plastic surgeon, who agreed that it's probably a solar keratosis.... although there's a very insignificant risk of it being a skin cancer. Anyway, whatever it is, of course he's desperate to get busy with his scalpel. So next month I'm off for a day procedure to have it cut out.

Turns out, I'm lucky it's kind of a horizontal shape, since that means the scar will sort of fade into the lines on my face. *ahem* Not that I have any of those. I'm also lucky that it's smack-bang right in the middle of my face, rather than to one side, as there's no chance of ending up with wonky eyebrows.

Sheesh. This guy's a plastic surgeon; you'd think he'd be able to smooth OUT the wrinkles, lift sagging eyelids, tighten things up....you know, generally make me more gorgeous. Or does Medicare not cover that? Hmm...

Wassup?

Lotta thinking going on here, not much talking blogging. I still haven't got everything figured out (and am starting to think I never will), but I'm in a much calmer and happier place over the past week. Living your life in a constant state of anxiety isn't a lot of fun. It seems I've been suffering from Last straw syndrome (I just made that up, by the way). There's a blog post in that, for sure.

In other news... yesterday I took my kettlebell for a test drive at the park and in 30 minutes smashed myself silly with a few simple moves and lots of cardio intervals. Got some funny looks from neighbours and passers-by too. Hehe.

Business is keeping me occupied, got some great clients who are hitting goals all over the place. Love it!

And I have 6 days to get my Mum's 70th birthday party happening, and so far I've done...zero. LOL. Well, one of my sisters and I have made some very preliminary arrangements to go food and drink shopping on Friday night, and I'm remarkably unstressed about it all. Cleaning might consist of hiding mess in cupboards on Sunday morning.

Later.....