Friday, March 30, 2007

Laurel And Hardy

Today finds me realising that I'm scared. Scared of what, I'm not too sure yet. I finished my morning chores and had washing clothes and dishes as well as doing some writing tentatively penciled in for my afternoon. I thoroughly enjoyed my lunch and was quite replete after the dessert of one almond cluster that finished the meal. On my way to the bedroom to get the first load of clothes from the dirty clothes bin I found myself detouring to the pantry and eating another four clusters, then grabbing another three to sit down at the computer to write.

Laundry? What laundry?

So, here I sit trying to sort through what exactly is causing the fear.

Naturally enough, I'm nervous about attempting a new short story for an anthology invitation I received two weeks ago. The last competition was a bit of a lark really. No prizes involved, only a friendly competition.

One that you were reasonably sure of getting a first or second in. Shuddup!

This one is important. It's for an editor/author I esteem highly. The same one I failed last time. It will be my first paid piece of work, if it is accepted. If it's not, then come the doubts again. Well, they're actually already rushing to the fore and laying me a prickly carpet to walk over every time I attempt to sit down at the computer.

Okay, phew, now that that's acknowledged, I can deal with it..

What about the others?

What others?

You go home for a visit in just on eight months time.

Eight months? Shit, is it that soon already? And I'm still fat!

And then next year comes babies.

Also, who knows how much things are going to be shook up here at the house. What if the new apartment ends up twice as small as this one for more money?

All those lovely, sexy, pretty clothes I just bought too. People will notice me in them. Notice my curves. It's safer to stay as I am.

Those laurels feeling comfy are they?

What laurels?

. . .

. . .

. . . Oh. Those laurels.

But, I've come so far in the past two years. I'm not the same person I was then! Don't I deserve a little rest from all this self discovery?

It's the end of March, woman! How much more of a rest do you want?

But, I've joined a writing group, applied to another, joined an intuitive eating support group last week and held my shit together through the termite tenting. I even yelled at a friend when I was angry with her. What more do you want?

What more do YOU want?

Beg yer pardon?

Well, it's March. Yes, you're making, and have made, great leaps and bounds over the past twelve months, but summer's coming, Lovey. I remember you distinctly saying that by the time summer came around there would be no need for you to sit miserably in front of the fan. Flat on your back on the floor for hours on end if I remember correctly?

Yeah, but--

And those new clothes you bought? Several in sizes that fit now, but most in a half size too small. I thought we weren't gonna do that any more?

Theydidn'thavemysize.whyshouldIgowithout? And they will fit me by summer! SO there!

How do you know that?

Because, look at my goals for April. And I'm planning on having great goals for the next eight months. Realistic goals. I want nice clothes to wear for summer, not ones that fit now and are too baggy then.

So, we're gonna stuff ourselves stupid with almond clusters for the last three days in March then?

No!

You know the only way those clothes are gonna be baggy, and these clothes are gonna fit, is if you get up and exercise. Stop worrying about whether you've lost any fitness in the past few weeks. Get up, go put some laundry on and do some aerobics or something. Stop sitting here, refreshing your browser, looking for excuses to avoid your life. Go live it, fer cryin' out loud.

But I'm working through my stuff.

It's gonna be the hottest summer on record. You know that. Look at how hot is was in Melbourne this year. AND you've got two summers this year, Northern and Southern. You wanna be able to pardy hardy?

Yes.

Get off you cushy laurels and go further than you've gone to date. Kiss 220lbs goodbye by the end of April. Make sure you fit into those lovely clothes by summer. Stop drowning your sorrows in chocolate. Practice what you preach. Those laurels aren't all that hardy, they can't hold you up forever, you know.

You're right. My plateau is over. I've marked time enough for now and am ready to take the next step forward.

Um. . .I can stop when I'm ready to rest again though, right?

You know you can. Think of what was discussed about plateaus at the eating group last week.

Oooh that reminds me, I wanted to post about tha--

Not now. Do it tomorrow. You know what you have to do for the rest of the day. No more procrastination.


Shit. I hate it when that voice is right! Don't you?

1 Nibbles:

lisa jane said...

We are horribly poor this week so your middle eastern post was a terrible tease,yumyum yum,i have zucchini but not much else :(