That richly woven tapestry called life....

Sadly mine consists mostly of hues in the black to crappy brown shades.  Oh I know I am always complaining...but isn't that why you tune in though? to reassure yourself, that placed next to mine, your existance is far more satisfying, fulfilling and purposeful than you previously understood.  I like to hope this is the case as it brings me great solace to believe my suffering gives joy to others.  And yes I really am on one today.

Twelve months down the line and another L'anniversaire D'Amour has passed (Valentines Day in other words).  After almost sixteen years of sharing a bed with the same man one would assume that the need for mindless tokens of affection would or should have faded by now, along with our sex drive, but not so.  I find myself needing reassurances of his unfailing devotion more than ever of late which is fairly unfortunate.  Unfortunate because of all the things Chris struggles with, remembering that he loves me seems to be right down there at the bottom of the pile together with remembering who he is, where he lives and what he is there for.  In fairness to him he is trying his best to recall most of these things but fate it seems has looked down upon him (and I) and pretty much projectiled. 

So no, he did not remember to post me a card, give me a call or send me flowers.   Despite my best efforts to remind him (by presenting his gift two days early in order to allow time to rectify the oversight I knew was inevitably heading my way) it just didn't appear to register.  Admittedly I am resigned to it of course having learnt over these past three years that when I need a pick me up it is unlikely to come from anyone other than myself, hence the battering my credit card has been subjected to.  I love you  Tesco Mastercard, and probably don't tell you that nearly enough.

But actually it isn't the lack of love trash that's getting me down.   No, today's camel straw is that Chris has lost his job.  Previously he's managed to lose many items ranging from keys, to wallet, to the car and Maisey even, but nothing as yet quite on this scale.  And so it feels hard to stay positive (am I ever?) when life just seems to be headed down a one way street to shitesville.  If I'm honest we both questioned his ability to manage in this role.....a massive leap from his first post-injury helpdesk job in Telford returning to hardcore IT back in Dublin.  Like I said last time though, money is the motivation behind just about all things we do in life and not least of all in this case.  In reality the stress, confusion and sense of inadequacy it has wrought in the poor man was not worth any amount.......well I say that but in truth it would depend how large a figure was on the table.  Truly everything does have it's price and yes I would sleep with Robert Redford for £1000,000.   Infact I'd do it for a fiver if I'm honest....and perhaps a pot noodle if he's feeling generous.

Ah well.  C'est la Vie and all that jazz. 

On a more positive note, I not long ago returned from 'Fat Club' where I learnt my total weight loss to date is 9.5lbs (over the last 5 weeks).  Sad that it has come to this, where the only motivation for not gorging myself on a daily basis stems from the thought of ritualistic humiliation at my public weigh in, but it was either that or stomache staples.  Based on the fact the latter is expensive and potentially fatal I figured plan A was advisable.   Admittedly I started off five weeks ago at my fattest ever and whilst writing this blog have already consumed two Dairy Milks and a Redbull in celebration of my success (logical), but honestly if I can keep this level of commitment up I should be back in a size 10 by about 2013.  Just in time for my 40th birthday celebrations.  Bargain.

I don't however want this era of my blog to be based solely about losing girth. 

What kind of a woman woud I be if my only interests consist of attempting weight loss and bewailing my marital disharmony........hmmmmm.......the average married woman perhaps?

x x