I have that song in my head now that I’ve typed in the title of this post!
I was just thinking to myself about how I just feel so low in energy. I’m tired. Monday I had my mini almost-meltdown which I managed to come back from – which I’m quite proud of but its left me feeling completely devoid of energy!
Some friends of mine were looking at an old picture of me after I’d lost a lot of weight with Weight Watchers. It actually made me feel quite annoyed and resentful of my former self. How dare SHE manage to lose all that weight and be happy, whereas this me can’t stop snacking. Can’t find the energy to keep up with my exercises. This me is wondering if she should just throw away all her smaller stuff and just buy size 16 (maybe even 18 for trousers – I have big hips, okay???) clothes. I’m fed up of this stagnant me. But I just don’t know where to find the motivation to do something about it.
I tried to make an appointment to see the personal trainer I saw a couple of weeks ago. I wanted to see him (or his son who also does personal sessions) to get me back into it again, but even after 2 messages, he didn’t respond and so I didn’t get to have my appointment on Saturday, so I just went out to dinner and enjoyed myself – popcorn, wine and dinner without having done some exercise to make myself feel like I’d earned it. Part of me wanted him to call or message with an appointment and the other half (the half that likes spending the evening tucked up in my jimjams on the sofa watching TV or in bed with my laptop) was quite relieved when I didn’t get a response. I guess I could have picked up the phone and rung him. Sigh. Maybe I don’t want to get fit as much as I thought I did.
I can’t see myself ever being that slim again. Ever feeling good about the clothes I’m wearing and looking good. I can’t imagine myself not wanting to snack all day (I literally want to eat ALL DAY).
You know, just thinking about this is making me cry. I’m stuck. Truly stuck.
I wish I had the money to have a personal trainer 3 times a week. To have someone hand me my meals and snacks that I’m allowed to eat in a plastic lunchbox and just give me my dinner in the evening (ok, I do have that, its called hubby). I wish life wasn’t so bloody tiring that I just want to hibernate in bed from 8.30pm every bloody night. Oh and while we’re wishing, I wish I had a cleaner that would clean up after all of us EVERY DAY.
Although, talking about cleaners, hubby has finally admitted defeat (he wanted to try to keep on top of housework himself when he takes breaks from work – but the problem is he is too busy now to take breaks from work and he works most evenings as well as during the day so there really ISN’T any time) and he has said we do indeed need a cleaner. I had thought this for months (ever since I started working full time in October) but I was keeping it quiet as I knew he’d come around eventually. So my friend whose daughter used to clean for me is coming round on Sunday (after Ben has left) to help get the house sorted and I asked her if she would like to continue on a weekly basis after that and she said she would do. I’m so pleased. Going to start with 2 hours per week but I reckon we may increase it to 2 hours twice a week if she can manage that. Maybe a couple of hours on a Sunday afternoon and a couple of hours on a Thursday. So we get ready for the week ahead, and then she can help get us sorted again ready for the weekend. I just want to be able to come home to a tidy house occassionally. Its got to the point that I try not to look down anymore because I’m fed up of seeing bits of abandoned toast from this morning’s breakfast that Lala has strewn around the hall. Clothes that are slowly making their own way to the laundry basket. Wet clothes, on top of dry clothes in the laundry room, I mean spare room. Anyway, suffice to say I am very grateful. Wonder if she’d clean out my car too!! haha.