I need to rant. About shopping trolleys. I HATE them. In fact I more than hate them, I detest them, I loathe them, I abhor them, I spit on their mass grave. I’m going rather O.T.T. here I know but seriously, I really, really dislike those four wheeled little freaks. Shopping in Tesco today and, as usual, I get the trolley which won’t go straight. In fact worse than that. Trolley’s that won’t go straight are what you get in every other supermarket. In Tesco’s, thanks to those stupid anti-cattle grid mechanisms attached to the wheels, most of the trolleys won’t even go at all. (Incidentally not sure if Tesco's deploy this tactic nationally or whether trolley-jacking is a Telford only activity?). Most cunning is the fact that the trolley DOES work for the first twenty minutes. Just long enough for you to fill it with several hundred small fiddly items before it breaks. Leaving you with a choice – either fetch a replacement and transfer your goods over only to find the new one malfunctions within the hour too, or continue to push the existing grocery holder from hell. Another reason to shop at Sainsburys, where the trolleys usually go straight (which is more than can be said for the majority of their single male customers!!).
Ok, feel relieved now.
My head you will be pleased to know is getting progressively better. Now I only have pain down the left side, which hopefully indicates the worst is over and not that I am about to have a stress-induced-stroke. Pain aside, so far the whole giving up Coke task has been really easy. And because of the mega-caffeine withdrawal I have decided to add energy drinks to the list of banned fluids - unfortunately though I am now developing an addiction to Syndol and Aspirin.
Because I was feeling so bad yesterday I didn't fill you in on my little trip to the Chiropractor. I've been seeing him on and off for several years now, for varying reasons, initially my back, then my arm, then my back, then my shoulder, then my knee, then my back and so on. It would be reasonable to ask at this point why I continue to visit him when he's obviously unable to fix anything, permanently in any case. I would tell you it's because he's supersonically fit and too hard to resist, in truth though Rick Moranis has more sex appeal, probably. His failure to succeed actually lies with me I'm afraid - because every time the troublesome part of my body starts to feels better I stop going, in an effort to save money, then end up in more pain than before. The secret to success with chiropractic treatment is continuity. And lots of cash.
It is a necessary evil that at each appointment, I have to strip down to my undies (or so he says). This poses a real challenge. Not because I am anxious about being seen semi-naked. Surprisingly, although I am overweight, I'm not really shy in that respect - partly because of that delusional element to my personality which allows me to believe my body still looks like it did fifteen years ago. I find it easy to convince myself that what I cannot see does not exist, even if I can feel it sitting around my waist like a rubber ring. No, the real conundrum is deciding which underwear sends the right message. If I choose the slinky expensive matching stuff it could be misconstrued as a sign of interest, whereas adorning myself in my once-was-white-but-got-mixed-up-with-the-darks bra and great granny knickers is pretty much admitting that I am an over-weight middle-aged mother of four who no longer tries or cares or tries to care. Which is possibly true but not the message I want to give out? Initially I took to buying new, demure underwear to attend each appointment; not wishing him to see me in the same stuff twice (thus thinking I had poor personal hygiene) I bought a couple of plain bra’s and pants from the respectable brand of M&S and alternated them. As the years have passed however, my body has changed shape, my boobs have grown (as have my arms, bum, thighs and stomache), and my purse has shrunk, so I now take to wearing whatever comes to hand. Yesterday it was the set I got Chris for Valentines Day – fortunately I had opted for “romance” as my theme when choosing his gift, rather than the black crotch less PVC.
Anyway he took a look at my calves and ankles, or in the words of a former colleague, cankles (owing to the lack of distinction between the two) and diagnosed the source of my toe-pain. I was relieved to find that it is nothing permanent, just simply a result of poor stretching and mild obesity. A few needles later, some deep tissue massage and a couple of days off the jogging and I should be right as rain. Embarrassingly also involved was a bit of buttock rubbing, to release any tension in the muscles there.......considering the fact that I absolutely know 100% there are NO muscles in my bottom, I am beginning to question his professionalism. Still if I will go wearing such frivolous undergarments he can hardly be blamed for trying.
And so I have done absolutely nothing for two days and it feels quite wonderful. Guilt free laziness; it’s the best. All ends tomorrow though as I’ve been instructed to try a long fast walk and then return to the jogging on Saturday.
Right now I am off to watch "Penelope" with the kids......a film about a girl born with the nose of a pig who needs true love to transform her in to something beautiful. Don't we all girls.......don't we all. x x
Ok, feel relieved now.
My head you will be pleased to know is getting progressively better. Now I only have pain down the left side, which hopefully indicates the worst is over and not that I am about to have a stress-induced-stroke. Pain aside, so far the whole giving up Coke task has been really easy. And because of the mega-caffeine withdrawal I have decided to add energy drinks to the list of banned fluids - unfortunately though I am now developing an addiction to Syndol and Aspirin.
Because I was feeling so bad yesterday I didn't fill you in on my little trip to the Chiropractor. I've been seeing him on and off for several years now, for varying reasons, initially my back, then my arm, then my back, then my shoulder, then my knee, then my back and so on. It would be reasonable to ask at this point why I continue to visit him when he's obviously unable to fix anything, permanently in any case. I would tell you it's because he's supersonically fit and too hard to resist, in truth though Rick Moranis has more sex appeal, probably. His failure to succeed actually lies with me I'm afraid - because every time the troublesome part of my body starts to feels better I stop going, in an effort to save money, then end up in more pain than before. The secret to success with chiropractic treatment is continuity. And lots of cash.
It is a necessary evil that at each appointment, I have to strip down to my undies (or so he says). This poses a real challenge. Not because I am anxious about being seen semi-naked. Surprisingly, although I am overweight, I'm not really shy in that respect - partly because of that delusional element to my personality which allows me to believe my body still looks like it did fifteen years ago. I find it easy to convince myself that what I cannot see does not exist, even if I can feel it sitting around my waist like a rubber ring. No, the real conundrum is deciding which underwear sends the right message. If I choose the slinky expensive matching stuff it could be misconstrued as a sign of interest, whereas adorning myself in my once-was-white-but-got-mixed-up-with-the-darks bra and great granny knickers is pretty much admitting that I am an over-weight middle-aged mother of four who no longer tries or cares or tries to care. Which is possibly true but not the message I want to give out? Initially I took to buying new, demure underwear to attend each appointment; not wishing him to see me in the same stuff twice (thus thinking I had poor personal hygiene) I bought a couple of plain bra’s and pants from the respectable brand of M&S and alternated them. As the years have passed however, my body has changed shape, my boobs have grown (as have my arms, bum, thighs and stomache), and my purse has shrunk, so I now take to wearing whatever comes to hand. Yesterday it was the set I got Chris for Valentines Day – fortunately I had opted for “romance” as my theme when choosing his gift, rather than the black crotch less PVC.
Anyway he took a look at my calves and ankles, or in the words of a former colleague, cankles (owing to the lack of distinction between the two) and diagnosed the source of my toe-pain. I was relieved to find that it is nothing permanent, just simply a result of poor stretching and mild obesity. A few needles later, some deep tissue massage and a couple of days off the jogging and I should be right as rain. Embarrassingly also involved was a bit of buttock rubbing, to release any tension in the muscles there.......considering the fact that I absolutely know 100% there are NO muscles in my bottom, I am beginning to question his professionalism. Still if I will go wearing such frivolous undergarments he can hardly be blamed for trying.
And so I have done absolutely nothing for two days and it feels quite wonderful. Guilt free laziness; it’s the best. All ends tomorrow though as I’ve been instructed to try a long fast walk and then return to the jogging on Saturday.
Right now I am off to watch "Penelope" with the kids......a film about a girl born with the nose of a pig who needs true love to transform her in to something beautiful. Don't we all girls.......don't we all. x x
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