Me:1, anxiety:0 – in my 30’s

Ever feel like your drowning in responsibilities and there’s no way to find your way out? Well that was me on Monday. This morning I had an interview at 8am, and tonight I leave at 8pm to fly overseas for a few weeks. This weekend I injured myself at volleyball by ripping out 2 earrings that caught on the net and hurting my index finger as well. It was suggested to me that it may be broken, but I’m taping it up at the moment and hoping for the best. And my ear, well, there’s nothing I can do but wait for it to heal and for the swelling to reduce. And I was fighting off a head cold, so all in all, this weekend I did not feel great and I spent the days recovering and not preparing for my trip or my interview aside from doing basic things like printing reports and doing laundry. I’m also trying to sell some stuff on gumtree, and learning a song for my mom’s wedding (because yes, she wants me to sing: which is nerve-wracking because I don’t sing anywhere other than drunk karaoke or in the shower), and trying to clean up my flat for a stupid rental inspection… this is a lot for me to take on – especially when I suffer from anxiety.

Monday I leave work intending to have a hell-productive evening and thus, when I get home I cook up some dinner, sit down to eat it and hear my cat come through the window… with a live rat. Or mouse. I thought it was a mouse, but I’ve been told it’s a rat so that’s what I’ll call it, but whatever it was, it was a rodent that should not be in my house. She lets it go and it takes off under the coffee table and thus begins Monday’s rat race (see what I did there?). The cat and I finally managed to corner it and I got it outside eventually – after what can only be described as a Chevy Chase movie script in the making – and spent the rest of the night cleaning the floors of rat blood and other nasties it was trailing behind it. And that, in the midst of the rat race, is when I reached my stress limit.

It was dark and I saw a shadow with a tail run and my cat close to its heels and I first turn my flashlight on knowing full well that there’s something in the flat. I get to the lightswitches, turn them on and know where the creature is based on the cat’s behaviour. She’s got it trapped under the coffee table. So in a panic I empty the laundry basket full of clothes (that I had JUST finished folding) and tip it upside down – well, the handles are higher than the basket so it doesn’t sit flush with the floor. So I’m in a panicky state and I remember a big plastic punch bowl I have in my kitchen. So I’m standing guard on the coffee table holding a punch bowl when the thing runs out. I’d like to say I dealt with it calmly, but I can’t: I screamed like a child seeing a ghost. The cat fortunately had better senses and followed it into the kitchen where she’s continuing to play with it. It’s not big, and she’s having fun, but I don’t want a rat death in my home and find this torturous to the poor little rodent. She she corners it and in I come with my punch bowl… I managed to get the bowl over the rat against the cat’s wishes, and then I had no idea what the hell to do. I was so caught up with catching the rat. And that’s when panic started to set in again. I called a friend – no answer. I called another friend – no answer. I looked through my phone to see who else I could call and that’s when it hit me:

I’m not this useless, I’m just overwhelmed. So I weighted the bowl down with the closest thing I could find (happened to be one of those big bottles of bleach) and I sat down. Right on the floor, right in front of the bowl o’ rat. I sat and watched my cat run around the bowl trying to get in and the rat, running around inside the bowl, trying to get out. With one trying to get in and the other trying to get out, it reminded me of the scene in the Lion King and the exchange between Timon and Zazou: “Let me out! Let me out!” “Let me in! Let me in!” and then I just couldn’t help myself: I started laughing uncontrollably at the ridiculousness of the situation, and I self-talked myself down off of my metaphoric ledge. I was nearly paralysed with panic; not only because of this rat, but the rat was the last straw in a fairly stressful few days for me, but at the end of the day, none of it was too much to overcome.

Continuing with the Chevy Chase themed hilarity, I got the rat out by sliding an old pizza box (thank you lazy dinner the previous night) under the bowl, holding the bowl still and firm with my chin (so yes, my face was next to the rat with only some plastic between us), and opening the door with my free hand. I walked it down the driveway and into the parking lot while I wore my fuzzy slippers and set it free in a bush on the edge of the property. Proud of myself, I took the bowl and I headed back down the walkway near my flat… where my cat jumped out of a bush and scared the crap out of me! Bowl goes flying over my head and I start running up the stairs taking 2 at a time when I see her pass me, even more terrified than I was because of my reaction. I’m laughing as I type this out – in hindsight it was hilarious. At the time, I screamed bloody murder, almost started to cry, and knocked my shin on 1 or more cement stairs. Once I realised it was just the cat, I stopped, went back down to get the bowl (ever so thankful it was plastic), went into the house, poured a stiff whiskey and took a big drink, and then I started cleaning the floors.

This may not seem like a big deal to most people, but I am so proud of how I was able to reassess the situation midway through and realise that it was not worth all the panic I was feeling. I’m now through my interview, at work on a break, and I haven’t even started packing for my trip – on which I will leave in 6 hours… but instead of freaking out, I’m just so damned proud of myself for handling that problem on Monday night. Last night (Tuesday), I got home with such a level head I couldn’t believe the calm and peace I felt the night before an interview. And this morning? Same thing. I woke up tired (I’m not a morning person) and instead of succumbing to the stresses of leaving tonight and the interview this morning, I casually got ready, caught an early bus, ate breakfast, had a coffee and showed up to the interview: on my terms. I wasn’t nervous, I did the best I could and I really feel like I crushed it! 🙂

So, for this round at least: me: 1, anxiety:0


Social pressures of being in my 30’s

While scrolling through facebook last night, I saw a little video clip of a man making a speech. I have no idea what the rest of his speech was about but the part this video showed was him saying:

‘… if a woman is 32, never been married, and never had any kids, then something is wrong with her… in my experience this has been true…’ He was implying that this ’32 year old woman’ should be avoided at all costs!

A woman stood up and countered this argument saying (I’m paraphrasing because it was a long rant):

if a woman is 32, unmarried with no dependents, it’s because she’s educated, career-oriented, and ‘a boss’ (I took this liberally, I doubt she actually meant ‘his boss’, but I’d like to believe that this is the case) who anyone would be lucky to have.

Why is this even a conversation that’s being had? Don’t people realise that we put enough pressure on ourselves based on personal, societal and familial expectations? I’m turning 32 this year and I have no prospect of a husband before that time. It doesn’t mean that this year, on my birthday, I’m going to wake up damaged (or anymore damaged than I already am haha) to the point that something is significantly wrong with me and I’ve now passed into the threshold of unmarriable. I’m not where I thought I would be by this age… but I’ve also experienced, endured and conquered so much more than I ever thought I would. In my 31 years on this earth, 21 were spent at home in Canada, educating myself and enjoying my life: getting first level degrees in Law and Justice and Political Science, learning French, playing sport, making friends and developing general social skills. In the other 10 years I travelled to 47 different countries (I recently found out that it wasn’t 50, which I thought it was: that was a tough day, but not in the way you’d think, and that’s enough for a whole other post). In these experiences I’ve:

  • lived in 6 countries (found work, apartment, friends, made a life, etc),
  • travelled in 6 continents,
  • backpacked,
  • met locals from these countries and discussed culture, religion, etc.,
  • met randoms and made friends I’ve still maintained to this date,
  • pushed my limits in everyway and recognised my strengths,
  • fought off several assaults (both sexual and non) and one kidnapping,
  • experienced natural wonders,
  • observed natural phenomena most people would only see in books or on tv,
  • completed a Master of Human Rights,
  • found a career I love (even if contractual at the moment),
  • breached six figures as my salary at 30 years old,
  • adopted a cat,
  • donated blood and money to charity, volunteered, etc…
  • started to learn Italian,
  • begun personal-interest courses and learning in Psychology,
  • found my favourite hobby/sport (beach volleyball),
  • found out I’m artistic(ish): crocheted a blanket, cross-stitched, painted, etc…
  • this list could go on forever.

How is it that someone who has accomplished this much can still be seen as unmarriable? By these ‘social’ standards, I’m a failure. I have such a hard time wrapping my head around how this can be so ingrained in Western culture still today. I’ve always achieved every goal I’ve set for myself other than the ones that society forces on women (and some men, I know) of a certain age. My original ‘life-long career goal’ was to be in a position to manipulate government policy. Well, that happened 2 years ago and I found myself in a strange position. At that point I was engaged, living in paradise, educated, had travelled, and had at that point realised that I had already accomplished the career goal I had assumed would take me a lifetime: all before I turned 30. And rather than relish in this success, I found myself lost.

Despite social pressures, I realised I was not living to my full potential. I decided to redevelop a career goal to work towards and acknowledge that it’s not a life-long one. When I accomplish this one, and I will soon (I’m currently awaiting publication in Parliament and then I will have completed it), I will develop a new goal and work towards that one. I also realised at that point that I was engaged to the wrong person, and I decided that society can go f*ck itself. I’m not choosing to marry the wrong person just so that I won’t ‘miss my chance’ as I get older. It was a very tough decision and it’s had lasting effects, but, 18 months on and I’m still strong. All of my experiences have had lasting effects and some of them have hardened me more than most would be comfortable with (you try fighting off being dragged into a van in the middle of Africa and have it not alter your perspectives)… but I have to state my opinion here: I’m far from unmarriable (yes, I’m biased).

My main focus at the moment is a personal goal. And it’s to see myself for who I truly am and to figure out which path suits me best – regardless of society and outward opinions. It’s also partially why I started this blog – to develop personally, but also in hopes that it reaches anyone else who is struggling at the moment. I may not be able to change society or social standards, but maybe I can shed some light on a different perspective. I struggle daily with what I have accomplished vs what I should have accomplished by now. I’m aware that my biological clock is ticking and I don’t need any misogenysts or antequated theories to remind me of this. But I’m also aware that I may not want children or a husband, and that until now, I’ve lived a life most others haven’t. So why then, am I still holding myself to the same standard that I’m arguing against? Because of those social standards telling me where I should be at this point. I have to say though, trying to fit myself into this little box with everyone else is truly taking away from all the things that make me who I am.

Weathering the storm in my 30’s

Today I’m struggling. Well, actually, for the last hour or two I’ve been struggling, before that I was fine. I had a good chat to my mom this morning, I indulged in some furniture shopping yesterday and am excited about my new stuff, and I was in a meeting with my boss this morning where I received praise for a job well done. I’ve been texting my hair dresser with photos of what I want done on Saturday, I got my ‘plasma donation’ reminder text (which always makes me feel good) and I’ve been looking at my week, so packed with social activities/dates/etc that I have no time for much of anything else. So why then, about an hour ago, did I just come crashing down emotionally and hit rock bottom?

I often have times like this. It’s not even days sometimes where it’s ‘good days and bad days’… sometimes it’s hours. My mom calls this a ‘storm’. This morning I woke in a great mood and was ready to seize the day. The day has continued to be a good one, and yet, right now, it’s everything I can do to not just get up and walk out. Where? No idea. But sometimes life just feels too hard. For the most part, I’m a very resilient person, but because of this, I book myself too much to do and then normal life becomes overwhelming. Take Saturday for example: Saturday I got up nice and early to find my cat had rolled in mud and climbed into my bedroom window overnight. So first thing I did was give her a bath and wash ANYTHING she had made contact with. She’s normally clean, so this is the first time I’ve ever had to bathe her (I adopted her in October after previously fostering her for nearly a year). Then I went to an hour’s karate class, followed by an hour’s kickboxing class from 9-11. My friend had asked if I could fill in for her softball team because they didn’t have enough players to even fill the field, so I got home and changed from one set of sportswear into the next with a quick sponge off of a shower and off I went to get there for 12-2 softball. I haven’t laughed like that in a long time, it was such a funny game! Anyways… it was a 30 minute drive away so I got home about 245 and had to tell my date that I would not make it for our 3:00 meet up, but that I would be there at 3:30. So into the shower for a proper scrub this time and back into the car to meet my date – a first date – with wet hair, an empty stomach and mismatched socks because (of course) I’d run out of laundry. We get take away coffees and go for a walk around the nearby lake – it was a lot of fun. 🙂 Then I realise it’s already 5:15 and I was meant to be at indoor volleyball at 5:30. Fortunately volleyball was a social event and I was able to rush back home, change into my fourth set of clothes that day and get there at 6pm. I’m stuffing Bhuja mix (it’s a yummy snack if you don’t know what it is) in my face while I drive there, but I’m glad I went when I did because I was put on a team with a guy I have a bit of a crush on and 2 other lovely people… and had a blast again. I left indoor volleyball at 10:30, was in bed by 12 and up again at 7am to get to the beach for an 8am beach volleyball session.

Saturday was SO much fun, but by the time Sunday afternoon came around, I had to cancel another first date I had organised because I was so physically exhausted I could barely move. But I still had to do some chores because I’d now gone through every bit of sportswear I own (including some old stuff I wouldn’t choose to wear), and had to cook up some food to eat, and I went shopping because a dining set I’d been waiting on for ages came on sale and it wouldn’t last until next weekend (the shop’s only open until 4 – of course – so I have to go at the weekend because I’m otherwise working). I felt ill by the evening. So now, I’m having a down few hours, and I’ve booked myself some time in the week (the social nightmare I mentioned earlier) to do some stuff of my own, and tonight is one of those nights. I have been trying to do karate and kickboxing at a local dojo and while I do really enjoy it, I just can’t find the time to go very often because, I get too busy or exhausted, and then that’s the first to go. My nights set aside for karate and kickboxing were Monday and Wednesday – so I’m just succumbing to the fact that I need some ‘me’ time more than I need any extra training of any kind, but here’s the catch: I already have a list of things to do that I neglected because I had such a busy weekend. Tonight’s ‘me time’ will involve stopping at a local spice shop for ingredients, dishes, cooking breakfasts and lunches for my work week, finishing/folding the laundry, selling my current table, picking up a few photo frames, cleaning the shelves in the kitchen (because something spilled over at the weekend), and, if at all possible, vaccuming – because my muddy cat left sand/dirt everywhere. Sounds relaxing!

Normally I love a busy life, and lead a busier life than most, but the issue I struggle with is moderating this life. I fill my time with so many activities that I end up struggling just to juggle daily chores – like tonight’s – and can’t be comfortable until they’re done. I guess I’m also a bit obsessive in that respect. Oh, and I’m also going overseas next week. So I have 8 days to get my affairs in order (packing, cleaning for a friend to come in and feed little miss muddy while I’m away, etc). Which is heaps of time, if I wouldn’t schedule a social life that takes up 98% of my time and energy. I know I sound ridiculous in complaining about this, but what’s troubling me is this: why do I feel the need to fill every moment? What is so fundamentally lacking from my life that I can’t stand to be idle? Whenever I have a moment to myself I start feeling down and I hate that I do because I can’t justify it; I have a great life! But I still feel lost/confused/alone and some emotions that I have no words for, and this is why I feel like I’m struggling with daily life right now. Not today, cause this morning I had it all figured out and was happy as a clam (where did this saying come from?), but right now, I’m struggling. My mom termed it well: she said to me this morning that I have ‘storms’ because they’re intense at the time, but they always pass. I know it’s residual from my anxiety/depression struggles over the last 18 months or so, but I can’t wait until the day comes when the storms are more of a drizzle or foggy mist.

Using faults to my advantage in my 30’s

No one is perfect. I could list several things I don’t like about myself: I’m fatter than I want to be, I’m moodier than I want to be, my hair never falls right until I’m about to go to sleep – by myself – otherwise I look like I might as well have stuck my finger in a lightsocket… because that’s life. It’s also true that when I run into someone I don’t want to, I’m in a terrible state:

  • once, I’d just stopped crying and was blotchy and sniffly and could barely breathe.
  • once, I was on my way to a very formal meeting with my boss and I saw someone I wanted to say several things to that would’ve resulted in me being sent home, or fired.
  • once, I’d walked into a doorframe and lost my balance – turned around and there was an old colleague of mine watching and laughing… ok, I probably would’ve had the same reaction, but still.
  • once, I fell asleep on the beach and woke up to a ball in the head and, of course, an ex-mate (cooler, more popular than me and smug: as if she’d done it on purpose) had thrown it. Drool coming down the side of my face and everything – it was beyond cringe-worthy.
  • this list could go on forever…

But that’s not what this post is about. This is about the fundamental characteristics we are born with or develop (insert a nature vs nurture debate here) to make us who we are. I believe our faults can also be positive attributes, but only if kept in check. So my fault, the one that tops all the others and is both the reason I have difficulties connecting with people and the reason for my successes… is that I’m aggressive. I believe everyone can be aggressive when they want are pushed in that direction, but I am fundamentally aggressive in my personality. Fortunately, this did not manifest as violence and I’ve never been in a fight in my life, but I am aggressive.

I’m aggressive in getting what I want. When I set my mind to something, I will do/get/see it. It’s the reason that I have had as much success as I have thus far in my life. … But it’s also the reason I can offend people quite easily. And why I can be more hurtful than I intend and more blunt that anyone ever should. I’ve been laughing it off with some mates lately and saying things like ‘no wonder I’m single’ but honestly, it’s not a joke! This is why I’m single… I can flirt and everything is going well and then date 1 passes well and date 2 passes well and then I think ‘hey I like this guy’ and instead of continuing the game that is dating like a normal person I will lay it all out on the table very directly: ‘hey, I like you, I think this could be great, where is it headed?’ etc etc. It’s not that I mind either way, but I like to get to the point. If you like me, say so. If you don’t, say so. I won’t get my feelings hurt, I’m aware that not every pair of people in this world will get on well and that even if you do get on, it doesn’t mean that it’s romantically. I get on quite well with my mates, but I could never imagine crossing the ‘relationship’ threshhold with them. That’s where most of the comfort comes from! I’m also not what men like to call the ‘crazy bitch’ in that I want to jump straight into a relationship. I just want to lay everything out on the table. I hate time wasting, in dating, relationships of any kind and especially at work!

At work is another area that I have to be very careful about my aggression. I was once called out on my ‘bitch face’ in a meeting skills training course. The facilitator said something along the lines of ‘no matter what, you have to act engaged and not let your true opinions show through your body language; like what she’s doing right there’ and pointed directly at me. I was shocked that he’d called me out on it, but I was bored stupid and hiding it was the last thought on my mind, so no, I wasn’t shocked when he said he could read my emotions on my ‘bitch face’. Information requests are also a difficulty for me. Most people go up to someone and ask for information something like this:

‘Hi, how are you? how’s the family? is that a new dress? I love the colour! yadda yadda yadda… oh, and by the way, can I get those numbers? Thanks, and can’t wait to hear more about blah blah blah…’

Here’s how I do it:

‘Good morning, do you have those numbers I asked for? Thanks’ and I walk away.

WHO HAS TIME FOR ALL THE FLUFF? Of the two examples above, one is definitely more efficient (mine) but one is definitely kinder, friendlier and dedicated to creating a positive working environment (literally anyone else’s). So my issue is that my determination and my lack of wanting to do anything other than what will simplify the task at hand, is then construed as aggression. I’ve learned to keep my mouth shut in most instances, particularly in the office, but I have to make a concerted effort at keeping my opinions to myself whenever I possibly can.

Arguments with me are not fun things. I know this. If someone is ignorant, I will call them ignorant. If someone is petulant, I will tell them they’re being petulant. I seem to have missed the class where everyone else was taught tact. I don’t always think I’m right and I will happily listen to altering perspectives, and often further research whatever point is being made. If I’m uneducated in a topic, I will not debate it, and I truly believe that all the differing opinions, beliefs, cultures, etc. are what make our world so incredible. But if someone comes at me with a biased, uninformed opinion that directly affects me then look out (i.e. my ex once tried to slut shame me – only once).

This also means that I don’t have time for drama. We all have that 1 friend (or 2 or 3 or 4) that is always full of drama. Don’t get me wrong, I have heaps of stories and things happening in my life too that some may call drama, but for this purpose, I mean drama to be the whinging, complaining, ‘the sky is falling’ reaction to everything. FML? I was SO angry when I found out what that meant!!! There was a phase where everyone was posting FML on facebook…

‘I just burned the cookies I was baking! FML’

‘My car just cost me $300 to repair! FML’

‘FML I can’t believe the cost of drinks on this cruise ship’

‘My boyfriend’s annoying me. FML’

ARE YOU KIDDING ME!? Stop over exaggerating please! Some people can’t afford a car or a cruise or don’t have a home to bake in or a boyfriend to annoy them – let alone have access to the internet to complain about these trivial things where they have no business being advertised. These first world problems are annoying enough and yes, we all have them and I’ve even written about a few of them… but I’m not ready to throw in the towel just yet because of them! Take the Dr I was dating as an example: he wasn’t as interested as me, or he was just too busy. Whatever the case, I didn’t head to social media about how much my life sucked! My life doesn’t suck, it was just a bad combination of two people. Get over it. My most annoying example lately is a friend of mine was recently dumped by her boyfriend and she was a couple days late with her cycle. When it finally came (only 2 days late after a ton of international travel) she messaged me ‘OMG I thought I was pregnant… that would have ruined my life… imagine if I was… just imagine!!! … what should I have done?… do you think I should have told him?… what do you think I should have done?… etc’ I can only deal with so much before my aggressive nature comes out and I have no more patience. I told her something along the lines of ‘well, good thing you never have to consider any of that since it didn’t actually happen’ and I had to ignore her pleas for attention for a couple days after that. It’s not the best thing I could do, but I had my own problems I had to ACTUALLY deal with and I didn’t want to delve into hypothetical ones as well.

I do my best to be a good friend and I have managed to keep a handful of best friends that are scattered around the world. My aggressive nature forces a lack of patience in my but it also creates a ferocity in me that I will do anything and everything I can to help a friend. I love with all of my heart when I do let someone in… it’s just a matter of getting in! So in my case, I have recently come to terms with just quite how aggressive I come across (which manifests in sarcasm, rude humour and a complete lack of empathy as well) and I’m working on calming it down at least a bit!

But I have to say that without that aggression I wouldn’t have this determination, and I wouldn’t be where I am today. So despite it being what I would probably consider my greatest fault, it has also resulted in what I consider to be my greatest achievements.

Weight focused in my 30’s

Here I am, finishing off another Monday – nearly halfway through the year. I’ve been focusing a lot on men in these posts, so I’ll discuss a bit about what I’ve been up to outside of the dating world for today: focusing more on my self-evolution. I want to be the best person I can be and that, for me, starts with correct food choices, exercise and work/life balance. I love being healthy. Not a fit chick that lives for exercise and sport, but fit enough to play the sports I want without my heart and lungs fighting for which will give out first. Recently I started martial arts – about 2 months ago. I signed up on a 3 month trial and have attended a grand total of… 3 times. In 2 months! That’s a terrible effort for the ‘new me’ that I was hoping to show off when I go home to my mum’s wedding this summer! I now have 1 month left of the membership and until I leave to Canada for the wedding that will be immortalised in photos and memory. My problem is not in the decision – I can easily see what I need to do to get where I want to go. I can develop goals and set a plan to achieve them. It’s just that my execution of these plans doesn’t really exist.

I have to say that I’m so excited about this wedding! But what I’m not excited about is wondering if the dress I got (and left there on my last trip home) still fits me and how chubby I’m going to look in all the photos that will decorate my mum’s home for the rest of her years. It’s a good thing she doesn’t care about my weight like I do! She cares about her own, which is far too common in women. 😦 Back to my personal point: I thought that the wedding would be a great timeframe to set a goal and attain it by. But I was so very wrong! So now, I have just under a month to get to a point where I’m happy with how I look for the photos. I’m quite comfortable in my own skin usually; I can look in the mirror and appreciate a good hair day (doesn’t happen often though), a nice outfit, or even when I’m completely nude and seeing all my jiggly bits, I can appreciate that I am still an attractive person, albeit an overweight one. It’s the prospect of the photos that’s getting to me right now. I’ve never disliked my photo being taken until I saw the ones from my best friend’s wedding in January. At that point I’d gained 14kgs in about 3-4 months and it was not sitting well with me… especially since I was in a dress that would never feature in my own choice of clothing and a hair style created for a 12 year old: complete with ringlet curls and all. I looked, to put it kindly, like a wannabe princess. To put it realistically, I looked ridiculous in my opinion. I believe that 99% of the time the person who’s skin it is, is the only person who’s opinion actually matters, with the exception being when you’re standing in a wedding. Then it’s apparently the bride’s job to make us bridesmaids look as ridiculous as possible! I’ve NEVER been able to stand in a dress I actually liked!

Until now. Enter my lovely mum who says ‘choose your own dress, colour, everything; I don’t care so long as you’re there.’ 🙂 So I did and I love the dress and it makes me feel pretty and I finally have the opportunity to feel good about my physical appearance in a wedding party: except for the ferrero rocher I just ate… and the 4 before that one. *sigh*

I’ve always been weight-conscious and I’ve always been overweight. I play heaps of sport and, because of this, exercise more often than most people – I’m talking 8-10 times a week is pretty normal for me. For the most part, I make good food choices as well – I eat eggs and veggies for breakfast, a prepacked, healthy lunch and then a salad or meat/veg dinner. My biggest issue is with alcohol. I love those empty calories so much! Wine is my favourite drink – to the point where I get annoyed that I feel the effects so easily because I want to drink more of it! I don’t like the ‘drunk’ feeling, I just genuinely enjoy the taste and relaxing vibe I’ve come to associate with sitting and having a glass of wine. Because with it, I’m not stressing about work or chores or anything, I’m either cooking or reading or sitting in a bathtub listening to music. This is what I love, and tea or water or even pops just don’t do these things justice. I also have a sweet tooth (hence ferrero rochers) but I won’t actually eat sweets at home usually – it’s only when someone brings it into work: but then no holds barred, I’m shoving fist-fulls of whatever treat that it is (whether I even really like it or not) down my gullet before anyone else can get their hands on what I’ve deemed my ‘portion’ (which is usually enough for 3 people). And then I feel sick and so I don’t eat the healthy lunch I packed, until it’s late and then I don’t feel like a healthy lunch so I pop out to a takeaway shop for some sushi or something high-cal and high-sodium. Not an awful choice on its own, but when paired with the ton of calories I’ve just ingested by eating half a cake without pause, it’s also not a good one!