Fear of Missing Out.

I am a strange anomaly. I love order and structure and knowing exactly what’s happening in the coming days and weeks. But I also love spontaneity, although this has a bad habit of showing itself as impulse buying concert tickets (did that two weeks ago) or flights (did that two days ago). I don’t know if it’s due to FOMO or if it’s some deep seeded motivation to find happiness, but whatever it is it is bad for my bank balance!

The flights I booked two days ago are unlike any I’ve booked before. Because I have booked a city break but I have no idea where we’re going.

My boyfriends birthday is in November and once my own birthday is done with I start thinking about his. What on earth to get him? After a decade together I can no longer surprise him, and there’s only so many times you can buy someone a signed book or print. So I started looking at trips. My first instinct was the Bubble Domes in Fermanagh, but as we live right down south of the country and his birthday is in November I figured it was too unpredictable and too awkward to get to. Spending money to sleep in a bubble in an Irish winter seemed like a possible waste. It rains here more often than not, and as much enjoyment as I get out of watching the rain drip down the side of a window, I don’t think it’s exactly a birthday treat.

So I remembered a website I had come across last year, srprs.me, that offers to take the stress out of planning your trip. You tell them when you want to go and how many people are travelling, and they do the rest. You don’t find out your destination until you are In! The! Airport! 

A friend of mine laughed when I told her I had booked it, saying she thinks I won’t be able for it, that she can’t see me relinquishing control over the hotel and flights and, more importantly, the end destination. But I think that’s exactly why it will be a good thing. He and I travel a lot but its usually to the same few places, visiting family and friends, or going to shows and gigs. And I do the majority of the planning. This will be somewhere completely new and just for us. And with none of the stress that goes into the planning.

This will be a different kind of stress. Wish me luck!

 

Happy Birthday to me!

I turned 34 on Sunday. Happy Birthday to me.

Only it wasn’t.

I did have a nice day, doing things I love, but I returned home alone and found myself considerably upset at the thought of going to bed in an empty house on my birthday. So much so that there was a moment I considered packing my bag and going to stay at my Mum’s, knowing she was also home alone. But I knew that would result in tearful conversations, and the possible beginnings of a habit. I’m officially a grown up, I need to be able to spend a tearful lonely night alone and be okay with it.

The reason I’m home alone on a Sunday night is because my partner in crime has started a new job. An opportunity he couldn’t pass up that just happens to be in another city. As neither of us currently drive and the public transport that’s available doesn’t get him there in time for work, he is living there during the week and coming home at weekends. Now I know we are not the first couple to ever be in this situation, and undoubtedly we will be far from the last, but this is tougher than I imagined it to be.

I encouraged him to take the job. It really was the best move for him. But I’m beginning to realise it was not the best move for me. Turns out I kinda like having him around. But there are benefits to being home alone.

I can listen to my music loudly and not be concerned about his distaste for my love of country. Or the fact that I am like a small child and love to hear the same song or album ten times daily. (I have had the Waitress Original Cast Recording Soundtrack on repeat for about three months now. LOVE Sara Bareilles.) And he finds the repetition just a tad tedious.

I can have Coco Pops for dinner. I mean, not everyday, but certainly once in a while and there is no one there to judge. Not that he would judge, he’d probably join in and have a bowl too, but if he’s home I will make an effort to cook something nice that we will both enjoy, putting time and effort into a semi-balanced meal. But without someone else to cook for I can eat whatever I want. Be that toast, an ice-cream or a bowl of coco pops. Or all three.

The T.V is mine and mine alone! No one else’s tastes to consider when I’m looking for a movie or a new series to binge. I don’t have to dismiss something if its too girlie or there’s too much singing in it, and I don’t have to spend an age figuring out what to watch of an evening. Only I still do. Turns out I’m indecisive enough on my own without having to consider someone else’s opinions and tastes. Even without having to find something we’re both in the mood for it still takes several false starts before I find something I actually want to watch. (I’d recommend Set It Up. Watched it on my own while drinking tea and eating cake, thoroughly enjoyable night. Silly sweet predictable rom-com. You know the type.)

On the flip side, there is no one there to converse with, no one to act silly with. No one to share a bar of chocolate with – I eat his share now as well as my own. I look after myself better when I have someone else to care for. I eat healthier when he’s around because I want him to eat well. I go to bed earlier because I know he needs his sleep as he has an early start and gets groggy without his full seven hours. I put my book down and turn the light off, encouraging him to do the same so that we actually go to sleep. And it goes both ways, he had an earlier start so I would get up when he got out of the shower, and I would always leave the house by 7:30, be in work for 8:15. On evenings that I didn’t get home until late he’d have dinner sorted, or at least planned. Now I’m by myself I believe I know my limits and how far I can push myself, but since he moved I have been uncharacteristically late to work at least once a week because I tell myself ‘just one more chapter’ the night before. And I’ve already mentioned how fantastic my dinner skills are.

I keep telling myself this is temporary. We’re going to be in the same city soon enough. I have high hopes that I will be offered a job in the same city as him within 6 months, but until then I have to endure living alone temporarily. He’s just glad he doesn’t have to endure Jane The Virgin any more.

 

Mothers Day

I had an empty house this weekend. Batman was away since Friday at a stag in the UK and I had all sorts of great plans. I even made a list. I love lists! I love ticking things off lists. But this weekend I didn't manage to tick a single thing off the list i wrote before he left.
Instead I found a new TV show to binge (The Night Shift if you're curious) and I made a bigger mess than was here when he left. Just don't tell him that!

I've been trying to de-clutter my house on an ongoing basis, and all that ever seems to happen is I get rid of some of the clutter and manage to fill the space with some new or different clutter. I've been spending more time on pinterest finding advice and pictures and reading 'How To Tidy Your House In 907 Quick Easy Steps' and other such ridiculous blogs. All it's doing is giving me ideas for a house that isn't mine, instead of how to fix this one I'm currently living in. I am always looking to the next thing, whats next on the list, and how to move forward, but in my rush to move forward I tend to miss whats going on around me.

We have had a tough few years in my family and it has culminated in a very hard, emotional, exhausting couple of months since the beginning of this year. I find it's teaching me a lot about myself. I love my family, and we are close and if anything the last few years have brought us closer. But I find I tend to stick my head in the sand a bit, ignore the darker parts of our family reality. I go to my Mom's once a week for dinner and I do my best to keep the conversation chatty, light hearted, easy. Because I know how awful things have been for her so I want to give her a bit of respite, even if its just for a couple of hours a week. But because of that I don't tend to find out the grittier details of whats going on. My sisters get the brunt of it and I feel left out, out of the loop. I know its of my own doing and I know it is up to me to change it, but I'm never entirely sure if I want to.

You know when you zone out of a conversation, and then you zone back in you're not entirely sure what was said so you just keep nodding and smiling and agreeing with the other person hoping they don't notice you have no idea whats going on? I feel like that every time one of my sisters or my mum talk about the details of my mum's treatment, or what's going on with my aunts and uncles. I find it hard to keep tabs and keep track of all the treatments that all my relatives are going through. We're Irish, its a big family. And we're all getting older, its only to be expected that there are going to be hospital visits and dreaded phone calls and dare I say it, hospice care down the road. One sister lives at home and the other picks her kids up there every weekday, so they get the day to day updates. I might talk to Mum twice a week, our weekly dinner and I might remember to ring her at the weekend and our conversations are fluffy. She has never been one for giving up information freely and I don't go looking for bad news. I suppose I'm trying to protect myself from the inevitable. Does that make me a bad person, or just selfish?


Maybe I'm focusing on things like de-cluttering my house and moving on and my next step because I don't want to be focusing on what's going on right now.

Sunday Evening Musings

I do this time and again, revive the blog and promise to write regularly, and it rarely happens.

So this time I am not going to make any empty promises. I am just going to write and see what happens.

In terms of my world at the moment it is cold and dark - the weather at least. This week we have had the worst snowfall in this part of the country for over 40 years. It was over 30cm in some places, and it was beautiful. It snowed for 48 hours straight and the roads were quiet, blanketed in snow and it looked so peaceful. It was fascinating to watch. I have to admit I sat by the lit fire and watched the snow fall for long periods of the day.

We spent Christmas this year in the north of England with Batman's family, and on the last day there was a small snowfall. As we headed to the airport on roads that snake through mountainous regions seeing the speckled hills made me yearn for a trip somewhere with proper snow. Somewhere with log cabins and large open fires and snowshoes. Skiing and snowboarding and reindeer. So when I heard the Beast from the East and Storm Emma were due on our little corner of the world and were bringing wintery showers with them I got excited. Kid in a candy store giddy! And as the snow showers started, I thought if enough fell maybe it would satiate my need for a trip to a snow covered vista. But if anything, its made my desire even stronger. I've been researching log cabins in Scandinavian countries, trying to find the best locations. And I've even been trying to talk my sisters into joining me, a family trip to a snow laden wonderland. Whether this dream trip becomes a reality this year or not, its been put out there, it's on the cards. This is one of those Bucket List things.

Musical Promises

I made a promise to myself at the start of the year. I promised that I would go to shows, see live music, spend what little extra cash I have on events that make me happy and will give me wonderful moments to create happy memories. I’ve spent far too much of my life not doing the things I wanted because of the cost, or because I really shouldn’t take time off work or for whatever reason. So what it boiled down to was a promise to go see live music more. And on the back of that I booked tickets a couple of months ago to go see one of my favourite groups when they came to Dublin. The gig was Monday night, the place was The Olympia, the band was Pentatonix and the night was phenomenal! They are five of the most stunningly talented people in the music scene at the moment and I am thrilled to have seen them live, and in such a wonderfully intimate venue. PTX can sell out arenas stateside but it was beneficial for the fans here that the same is not true of them in Ireland – yet (give it time.) The Olympia was jam packed and everyone there got an amazing experience. Having seen their documentary and their Youtube videos, I knew that they do a big show, but it translated well to the smaller stage of The Olympia. The setting was simple, these guys and their team know that the voices and songs are the true focus so there is no need for fireworks or costume changes. A light show and some smoke added to the excitement but they needed nothing more. The audience love them as they are.

The highlight of the night for me was the first encore song. A track entitled Light In The Hallway. A lullaby of sorts, they put their individual mics on the ground and curved around two small floor mics, the lighting was simple, resembling firelight washing over them, and they sang a beautiful, almost haunting melody. Avi Kaplan is a joy to listen to and he shines on this song. The whole performance was a joy, with Kevin Olusola’s cello and beatbox solo another highlight. The friends I went with agreed we would happily go to see Kevin perform by himself. The whole group seemed genuinely excited and enthused by the thunderous applause they received, which was much deserved.

Weightloss Week Two

I’m almost done with my second week with the weight loss group. I went along last Thursday and got weighed in and, much to my delight, I had lost 4&1/2 lbs. It was actually easier than I expected, although the first week was fairly full of salad. Its taken a bit of time to get accustomed to and I have found it more difficult to stick to the plan on week two than I did with week one, but I can tell you exactly why. Visitors. 

B’s parents came to visit for the weekend, and as always it was lovely to see them and spend time with them, but I found having people around called for entertaining which called for foods that are not exactly good for me. We watched the Eurovision, a tradition for me, and I had arranged to have healthy snacks, fruit and veg, things I love snacking on anyway. However take-away was suggested, and I considered saying no just for myself but I knew once the food came I’d want some and would end up pilfering from other people’s orders. Which was followed by a box of chocolates, among other things. The weekend was a downward slope, but I hoped starting back to the work week on Monday would help steer me in the right direction. It didn’t. Now I haven’t been terrible or eaten the weight I lost in Drifter’s but I haven’t been as good as I was on week one. 

I get weighed in tomorrow after work and I am just hoping to not have gained weight. Even if I just stay the same I’ll be more than happy. Promise to report back soon.

New Beginnings

Everything changed last summer. I was on track to the weight I wanted. Actually, the body I wanted. For possibly the first time in my entire life. I had starting exercising, and I was actually enjoying it. Three, sometimes four times a week I was going to a fitness class, I loved it. And between that and eating a little better it was doing wonderful things for me. Then last summer I had an amazing opportunity to start a new full time job. Having been in a part time job for a few years and knowing there was no chance of progression there, it was definitely worth considering. There was a catch however. It involved moving to another city. Great. Wonderful. Why not? Whole lot of reasons for and against but after a lot of discussion with B and my family, I decided to accept the job and see how things turned out.

The job is a sedentary office job. Five days a week. It's not my dream job but it's a full time, ok paid job that is possibly a job for life if it continues to go well. The biggest problem, and what has prompted me to write this, is that the combination of a new city, a sit down job and losing the class I was enjoying so much has meant that I am back to being pudgy; heavy; overweight; fat; even possibly clinically obese. I should add, these are not terms that have been used by other people to describe me. These are all self appointed descriptions. I am at a point where I am unhappy with my outward appearance and where I feel unhealthy and am concerned about how th  food  I'm eating are impacting my overall wellbeing. I don't feel comfortable or confident. I don't like wearing the clothes I used to love because now they cling in all the wrong places. They're tight and uncomfortable. I actually snapped my belt while trying to buckle it a few days ago. Now, the belt wasn't the newest or the sturdiest, but it was still an upsetting moment. And maybe even a pivotal one. I joined a weight loss group two days later. I'm undecided as to whether I'll name the group or not, maybe we'll wait to see what happens. My sister had joined the same weight loss group and has had success, so I decided it was worth a shot.

My first night the weigh in was a little terrifying. Thankfully it's a very private weigh in. But the positive part is that I am pretty much the weight I thought I was. If that makes sense. So that was Thursday night. This is now Saturday night and today was the first day I put their weight loss plan into action. Friday was a non starter. No reason, just wanted to put it off a day or two more. And also I think part of me wanted to come home and sit and talk with B about the food options and to try encourage him to join me. So today we did a big shop, and for the first time in probably nine months, there was no chocolate, no biscuits. Not a cereal bar in sight. It was plain weird. Actually it was just plain.

For a first day it wasn't terrible. Now the decision to go to the cinema later in the day may have been misguided, but I stood strong. I packed an apple and strawberries and ate those. The lingering scent of the popcorn as we heading in the doors was hard to ignore. Popcorn is half the reason I even go to the cinema. But I was proud of myself today. I bought a drink, nothing more. I ate my strawberries and my apple slices. And it was weird. It wasn't the end of the world. It wasn't life altering or emotional. But it was strange. And, before the movie was over (Marvel movie so it was over two hours) I was hungry. And not a little peckish but hungry!! Normally after a cinema trip, B and I would skip dinner. Tonight however we made dinner. A healthy one. Grilled chicken, (no skin), quinoa and veg (tomatoes, spring onions, peppers, carrots and sugar snap peas). And it was really tasty. But, again, less than two hours later, we're both hungry again. I mean I'm sure that's probably a good thing but I'm far too used to popping to the kitchen and grabbing a snack. Chocolate or crisps or biscuits. Something to satisfy a craving and sate the hunger. Tonight, I went for a banana. Not nearly as exciting as M&M's but it will be worth it.

I aim to write and update how I'm getting on a couple times a week. Hopefully the task of writing about my food, eating habits and weight will make the journey more bearable. It might even be helpful to someone else. So, here I am, taking the first step to the rest of my life. Hopefully a healthier one.