I’ll do a more general post on how I hate change but here comes a specific example.
Yesterday, I saw a woman who I used to see quite a lot and used to talk to in some depth. I expected a warm reception but it was slightly frosty. I tried a joke. Still frosty.
That upset me and left a sour taste in my mouth. I guess I just expected more.
Maybe it was because she was stressed or because I hadn’t seen her for a long time so she felt uneasy. But either way I can’t help but think that maybe I’ve done something wrong or came on too strongly?
Just 2 pounds and then I will have lost half a stone.
It’s been really tough but I’ve had heaps of support and lovely comments from people on here and I’m determined to continue losing it!
A lot has changed since I wrote “Anger management”. I’m not sure whether it’s because I thrash my body at the gym almost every day or not, but I have become much less angry. This has, of course, had an impact on my driving.
I still feel angry when someone pulls out in front of me, or cuts me up, or overtakes when I doing the speed limit and sometimes more. But now I do what I should have done a long time ago: realised that they were the ones who were going to end up injured and not me and ignore it.
However, I still have one trick up my sleeve.
It was early evening a couple of days ago and I was driving to a friends a few miles away. All of a sudden a car caught up with me, pushing me along the 30mph road. I instanty knew what I had to do. I wound down both windows. I waited for the next song to come onto shuffle. It was Mariah Carey’s “All I want for Christmas is you”. Perfect. I could belt that out and she would be bound to hate it.
I whacked it up to maximum volume and I sang my little heart out. The best part was that it was the middle of June and there I was all Christmased up and lovely every second of it.
Sadly, the woman behind didn’t love every second of it and turned off towards the end of my majestic performance.
Wagg 1 – Angry driver 0.
They say that if you want to do something it has to be because you yourself really wants to do it. For you, and you only.
But that’s not why I want to lose weight.
I want to show that woman at the gym that I can. I want to prove to the police, my nan and any strangers that have ever walked past me and thought I was chubby that I’m not chubby. Or at least, I can be not chubby.
I want my friends to compliment my new slender self and I want my colleagues to comment on how much weight I’ve lost and how well I’ve done.
I want a girlfriend. I want girls (women) to look at me and not just see a lazy, over weight lump.
I don’t want to lose weight for me. I want to lose weight for everyone else.
And I am going to lose weight, get into the police, receive comments on how good I look and get a girlfriend. This weak attempt at it all from me ends now.
Thin Wagg is coming back. And this time, she’s gonna be buffer and better than ever.
I miss everything about school trips to the theatre. As I did theatre studies at A level I saw a lot of shows. There didn’t seem to be a month that went by when we didn’t go and see a play.
I miss the build up, the cramped coach journey and the compulsory pre-show McDonalds. I miss the ice cream in the interval, the moments when I dropped off to sleep and the late night sentimental chats in the comfort of the darkness of the coach.
I miss it all.
I miss writing reviews, reading reviews and doing anything to do avoid doing the previous two things.
I was at work earlier and a woman made a comment relating to a play, assuming that I’d have no idea what she was on about. But I did. The play she referenced I’d read (and hated). I felt so clever being able to talk about it in some depth and I missed being surrounded by like minded people.
I then started to look for quotes from my favourite plays and I realised (while reading a review of Sarah Kane’s “Blasted”) that the theatre meant more to me than I once thought it did.
It was tackling an opinion I had and wanted to change, it was holding a friend’s hand during an uncomfortable scene, it was tapping into the tiny part of me that wanted to act.
It was more than just a show.
I took a different route home today. It was a little out of the way but it was so worth it.
I saw trees littered with flecks of sun and long, narrow gravel roads that lead to byways and farms and pig rolling in mud.
I thought: “I’d like to take a walk round here. All I need now is a picnic.”