waiting for the whoosh - badgergirl's journal page 11

[badgergirl]

One suggestion... go watch Gallagher do his best with some watermelons...

Wish I were there to do something nice for you, just to relieve the tension.

Aw, thank you.

Today at work was better - in that there were no explosions - but I'm still seething. Work was situation B. Situation A? Well, that has far greater ramifications and I'm still looking for something to napalm. Hmm. Evidently dropping carbs does quite strange things to brain biochemistry because I'm just feeling FULL ON in every area of my life right now. And very, very selfish.

This is supposed to be a food/nutrition/health blog, isn't it? So, it turns out that I'm a lady who no longer lunches. This is very strange, but there you go. Breakfast of fat+protein (eggs or yoghurt) and a dinner that is fat and protein with some vegetables, not much, and I'm good to go. Very strange altogether.

[badgergirl]

Did the seasonal wardrobe change over today - packed away all the heavy wool and dark colours and got out all the cotton and brights. A few things: my running bare skimpy shorts are loose at the thigh; my skirts are all sitting on my hips; my board-short-swim-short things that I have never worn out of the house because they were always just a tiny bit snug at the inner thigh/crotch are loose; I have too many clothes and not enough shoes.

It's a hard life.

[badgergirl]

For the first time since I started this caper, I really lost it today with some emotional eating. Ugh. It never helps, does it?

Without going into specifics, it has become apparent to me that I have a lot of hard work to do in just about every area of my life: work, home, marriage, finances, mothering. They are all interconnected and I am overwhelmed. I want to hit the detonator on it all.

And I am filled with sadness. And peanut butter.

[badgergirl]

As the fat (and there was never much) recedes and I return to a more youthful figure, I fear I am regressing musically and in other ways too...


I once wrote lyrics in a VD card. That was embarrassing. And then there was the time during uni that I was working in a chippie, having something of a breakdown, and a young lad left me a mixtape. First up was his Northern Lancs voice saying: "...'ello chip girl." And then this:


There's that whole Albion cultural thing that I miss so very dreadfully. And, just for good measure, the very essence of it, for me:

This is what my home looks like

That's both sides of the bay where I grew up. I used to sit on Brading Downs, far above the bay, looking down on it and trying to imagine what it was like before the Romans invaded. I would hum to myself (I've always been odd, this is not a new thing) Enya's Boadicea (and insist it was Boudicca, I knew my roots).

It's impossible these days not to want to sing ready or not over the top. Bloody Fugees.

[badgergirl]

More of the same today, I'm afraid. But the jar is now empty. Tomorrow will be different. Spent some of today looking at someone's Isle of Wight holiday photos they'd posted on Flickr. Perhaps if I'd grown up somewhere grim - Birmingham, for instance - I wouldn't get so homesick?

[badgergirl]

Jay-sus. My workplace is effed up. Today I got shout-out praised in the all-hands staff meeting for my genius idea and the CEO gave us his fatherly advice wrt workplace bullying. Mind you, any cases of bullying by the doctors should be referred to the deputy CEO (and head of HR and my line manager) who is the prime source of, you've guessed it, non-doctor workplace bullying. It's very much like an abusive relationship.

No peanut butter and no lunch. I'm tempted to do the headless success shot to post here: running shorts and sports bra. Tempted, but perhaps it'd better wait a week or two. With all the recent dramz the weight waggling has rather fallen by the wayside.

I sometimes feel this is farce rather than real life.

[badgergirl]

Beautiful day today - sunny, blue skies. Felt especially hard done by to be stuck in an office. Got the next two days off, followed by the weekend. No real plans, but going to try to get some play and joy into my days.

Felt briefly hungry today as lunch time approached. I was somewhat stunned and hadn't packed a lunch. The feeling faded and I carried on trucking.

Will. Waggle. Weights.

[Crabbcakes]

My First has a years-long ongoing love affair with Enya.

Before I did the stay-at-home-mom thing, I was in brokerage, back in the dark ages. That made me seriously doubt my sanity, too.

First, Second and I picked up the most beautiful, red leaves to press - fall is here in all its we-have-lots-of-deciduous-trees glory.

Now that I live in the woods, I have developed some beliefs: 1. the more removed you are from nature, the wonkier you get; 2. humans shouldn't work in offices more than 1 day per week; 3. humans shouldn't live too close to each other (underage children excepted) or in too high of a concentration (think cities)

Hope the play is awesomely playful.

[badgergirl]

I'm basically a stick with hips at this point. That's, minus the head, six-foot of prime badger there. More weight waggling is definitely required.

[badgergirl]

Body image is a very strange thing (perhaps I need to qualify that by saying *my* body image is a very strange thing, or even, simply, I am very strange). When I was younger, pre-marriage and procreation, I used to think of my uterus and Fallopian tubes as akin to a horned goat, with full-on curly horns - do nannies have horns like that? I doubt it, but still - everything about my sexual/reproductive system seemed to be butting out of my body. I even, in the last year of uni, kept a bleached out horned skull (sheep, I believe, rather than goat - it was a gift from people who knew me better than I knew myself) on my bedroom door as a sort of warning - all ye who enter here...

Anyway. These days, more and more, it's my bones, rather than my organs, that are filling my imaginative space in terms of how I think about my body. I keep imagining my pelvis as a lyre with - cat gut, my gut? - strings pulled taut across its broad expanse. I vibrate.

There's something very danse macabre about my internal self image.

Please don't tell the men in white coats.