Two of my dearest advisors had concocted a birthday surprise for me at the end of February – a mystery tour of a mystery place. All that I knew was that I needed my passport.
We drove past enticing places such as Basingstoke, Bracknell and Salisbury, then past Stonehenge until it became clear that I was either being taken to Exeter or Newquay. What is in Exeter I wonder? What government enterprise might be of interest to me that is located there?
After a spot of lunch and a chance to listen to 6 women loudly cackling next to us, we made our way to the Met Office, for their open day.
One could imagine a tour being dumbed-down for Average Joe, however it wasn’t – the content was often explained using more detailed terms – they explained how they use the weather models (and how I use them!) and gave a generally interesting presentation. We had a tour of the building, from the Met Office library, to the instruments they use (less interesting), to the massive super-computer, and through the empty part of the office (empty on Saturdays) and outside the chief forecasters office.
Even the building itself was of interest – really spacious and calm, the kind of inspiring building where you would actually enjoy working inside. None of this basement shit like I have to cope with (albeit not for much longer). There was a stress on the building being environmentally friendly with the heat from the super-computer being recycled to heat the building, for example, and everything having a recycling bin – most companies I work at don’t even have one recycling bin.
The only downside was their insistence on global warming, and the idea that the UK will be 6.5’C warmer in 2080 than it is now. Just seemed utter bollocks.
On the positive side, they seem to appreciate my question on Sudden Stratospheric Warming – though they couldn’t answer it. I’m not sure there is an answer yet to my theory.
We stayed at this super-cute barn in the middle of nowhere, having to drive through those tiny windy one-way lanes with few passing points. We were pretty high up – the next morning the mist was beneath our level…such nice weather too. We didn’t go out in the evening – staying in to cook a pretty damn awesome steak dinner and watch a movie.
Exeter centre itself was impressive. A mix of historical buildings like the Cathedral and some wall remnants, some more upmarket shops and what looked like pretty decent pubs – alas my detox and also the lack of time meant that they weren’t visited. Also there was a harbour area which I imagine would be very pleasant in the summer for drinks and people-watching. I particularly enjoyed the font on the bus station:
On Sunday, we visited the Medieval passages under Exeter – where pipes used to bring water to the Cathedral originally, then the rest of the city later. Quite a tight squeeze, the tour guide would annoyingly stop to talk sometimes when crouched down – not something my back and knees found easy. Was a bit weird squeezing through underground tunnels, but something different.
Then it was back in the car to get back to London in time for a roast dinner.
Exeter was definitely a charming little city, a shame that we didn’t have longer to spend there.
If you saw me over the last few months of 2018, or just read the banal self-loathing crap that I occasionally spout, you’ll realise that I stepped up a gear from fat to obese last year. At the end of 2018 I was 16kg heavier than at the end of my 2018 detox.
Therefore this year’s detox comes in two parts.
The first part is simply 90 days without alcohol. Though since I started, I have decided to extend this until Easter.
With an emphasis on repairing my diet during this time, which has become solely focused on my brain’s short-term desires, my lack of energy and motivation hindering attempts at good behaviour during business as usual. Most days in the latter half of 2018 I had over 3,000 calories, which includes Red Bulls, chocolate, cakes, occasional morning sausage sandwiches. Almost all of my good habits of old, have been replaced by bad habits, to keep me going through the day.
As well as having given up alcohol totally, I will be giving up or cutting down drastically the following: Energy drinks Sliced bread Chocolate Cakes
As I’ve said before, I know what I need to do to lose weight and be healthy – I have just totally lost the motivation over the last year, and had little time or energy. Giving up alcohol gives me the mental space to do so, increase energy levels and allow the positive feedback loops.
Analysing my last year, I think one of my main issues was how I dealt with the pent-up demand from my three-month detox, which as soon as it was over, I went on a food and booze consumption binge, pie here, pizza there, midweek drinks here – a genie that I never put back in the bottle.
So, part two will be only having one weekend on the pop per month, until I am down to 90kg. Which might take all year, but so be it. Not including holidays #OBS!
I have also set myself monthly goals – fail these and I’ll punish myself with vegetarian roast dinners. I have already failed my February weight goal. Expect a scathing review of a vegetarian roast dinner soon. FML.
I’m more than halfway through, absolutely not bothered at all about the lack of booze 98% of the time – I have had a couple of occasions where I’ve been pissed off and “needed” a beer, and there have been a few social occasions where I have missed it – like my weekend in Exeter last weekend…how good would a glass of red wine been with my steak dinner? Definitely not craving it like I was last detox though.
However, I don’t feel that I am feeling the benefits as much as last year, though last year I also gave up chocolate, cakes and severely limited red meat – this year I’ve just cut down from my over-consumption.
I’m getting there. I’m eating healthier again, doing a little bit of exercise where I get the time and broadly (seems to be my favourite word of 2019) feeling better. I’ve repaid some of my over-spending from last year and am progressing through some of my to-do lists, and started work improving my web development portfolio.
Once my detox is over, the challenge will be to find some form of balance, and not go back to binge-eating. Maybe I need a wife?
Slow progress, but as the saying goes – slow progress is better than no progress.
How is my favourite supermarket doing? I hear that you had pretty good Christmas results. Alas, your avocados have been a little disappointing on occasion recently.
Twice I have bought your dual pack of ripe avocados in recent weeks (I’m stretching the definition of recent here) and ended up being disappointed. So disappointed that I have taken to buying avocados from Tesco.
As you may understand, now that I have moved to London, I need to prove my credentials by eating as many avocados as possible – especially on toast. And not just any toast, but the seediest, sourdoughest, wheatgermiest toast possible. And then grow an ironic Hitler moustache.
The first occasion, both of them were just horrid – quite yah…yucky. I don’t know how to describe them. The second occasion, one was good, but the other had a massive gash across it – this was face down so I couldn’t see when buying it.
I appreciate that getting avocados perfect every time is not possible, but these were pretty damn disappointing.
Oh my word. One more thing. On my most recent delivery, I ordered some fruit yoghurts. I saw that they had been substituted when they arrived but I didn’t look closely – I assumed for the other type of fruit yoghurt.
But no. Toffee. How is toffee comparable to peach? Also vanilla, and banana. How do any of them come close to the fruit flavours of peach, passionfruit – and whatever your other ones are?
It makes no sense. Surely substitute for another brand of similar flavours?
Anyway, time to go make some toast with my Tesco avocado. #sad
Kind regards James
Thanks for your recent email about the quality of our avocados of late, I’m sorry that they haven’t been up to scratch, I appreciate your need to eat so many avocados, especially as you’re living in London now.
I’ve logged your feedback with our Product Quality team so that they can work on improving our quality control for these in future.
As an apology from us I’ve popped a £5 gift card in the post for you, please allow 3-5 working days for this to arrive and a further 72 hours upon receiving it for the balance to be added.
And I’m sorry to hear about the substitutions that you received on your online order, unfortunately at Careline we are only able to handle in store and product related issues, however I have passed your feedback on to our Online Team.
We appreciate you taking the time to contact us and we hope to see you in store again soon.
Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me. Last year I had a bit of a miserable birthday – it was a Monday, I felt rubbish, I ate loads of junk food, I didn’t have the best day at work and then I had a really disappointing M&S pie for dinner.
So I resolved to take my birthday off this year. I did.
It seems that I spent half the day responding to birthday messages – some pretty damn brilliant ones on Facebook in particular, but I did manage to do a few other things. I think.
Bacon and egg sandwich for breakfast. If I cannot have one on my birthday then when can I?
I also bought myself a fillet steak from Waitrose to cook tonight – I’m filling it with goat’s cheese, lemon and rosemary – wrapping it in bacon, and having McCain chips with it. No, seriously, I am having McCain chips – the gastro ones are actually amazing, albeit 100 calories per chip. By time I have finished writing this, I guess I’ll have eaten it.
I received a couple of gifts, and am now the proud owner of a Verizon mug, thanks to my boss from the time.
For some reason I decided that a good way to spend my birthday was to go shopping down Oxford Street, but I did find this very nice coat for just £39.99.
Alas, I ripped the lining when I put it on in this photo – man, the quality at Zara is crap. I also bought some socks and a pastel pink jumper.
Also – snow.
Not only did it snow, but I also got to see a racist kicking off in Tesco Express. And the Metropolitan line worked despite the snow. Oh and I got a refund that I didn’t know I was due.
Finally, I was also quite bizarrely offered £75 to write about Yorkshire puddings in London. Quite how I am going to write 500-1,000 words on the subject is beyond me but I’m sure I’ll make up some crap, or just bang on about Brexit if not.
Oh yeah, Article 50 wasn’t rescinded today. Now that would have been a beautiful birthday.
Instead, it has just been a very good birthday. Oh and well spotted – this is the new home for my blog. And I have quite extensive plans for it.
The steak was amazing by the way – best thing I’ve cooked in ages. Wow. Thanks for all your birthday wishes.
Previously if I had spent NYE by myself, I’d be lonely and some shade between melancholic and miserable – this year I’m just tired after a long day at work, and pretty upbeat.
I find myself mostly satisfied with 2018 – it has been an exceptionally fun and enjoyable year, one where I have made progress in some key areas of my life – but also overlooked and lost control of others.
2018 started on the sober side with a 3 month detox that I completed successfully. It was certainly tricky at times and life was less fun – there were less of those special moments, but I think I was more settled in my mind, I was probably happier – without the usual peaks and troughs and I felt much better in my body. And I achieved much more than I would have done otherwise.
There is no doubt that alcohol affects both my motivation and performance – in almost every aspect of my life that can be improved, removing alcohol would lead to improvement. Well, in every aspect except fun, socialising and enjoyment. And after my detox, in particular, I had a lot of fun.
Starting with 4 holidays. A trip to Madrid to see my delightful Spanish friend, Rosa, albeit that wasn’t the reason we went – as it was a family holiday – the first for…20 years…I think…to celebrate my Dad’s retirement. And what a place – I love Spain so much, and to get to visit the capital city and find out more about the history of the country was just utterly wonderful.
And then there was the long weekend in Vienna with my amazing friend, Martin. Another city that I fell in love with, from the glimpses of the genius of Gustav Klimt’s artwork, to the canal-side shacks that served as a kind of bohemian nightlife. One seriously awesome – and very underappreciated city.
Croatia. What can be said about that? Nothing that I can put in writing, but that was just such an awesomely fun holiday – a techno/disco festival on a little cove in Croatia. The feelings of being on the dancefloor whilst the occasionally odd but generally brilliant music was played, was just special. So special.
Not forgetting Budapest too with my wonderful sister and my bestie, Alena. Maybe I didn’t fall in love with it as much as the other places I visited, but it was so enjoyable, such good food too. More of a culinary treat than the other holidays…especially Croatia.
The fun continued with day trips to Brighton and Warwick with my fave. And a trip to Birmingham to watch the test cricket with my Dad – albeit only 1.5 hours of test cricket.
Two awesome weddings – both very different but both ridiculously fun – and stupendously heart-warming.
Despite living in London, I think I spent more time with both my friends and family. I feel closer to most people in my life than I did a year ago – whether they feel closer to me is of course, another question, especially with the amount that I bang on about Brexit. And roast dinners.
I did have some really good meals this year too. Some very good roast dinners, including my favourite so far at The George in The Strand. Also took my parents to Peckham – their faces when they stepped outside of Peckham Rye station were a sight! But we had a very nice dinner there, my Dad still enthuses about the fish that he had. And we know our fish, being from Hull.
It seems like I have done so much this year, despite being on a fairly tight budget. And I have – there is so much that I have missed out because I should really go onto other topics. 47 roast dinners though. That ain’t bad is it? And my blog is slowly getting more popular, more readers, more people thanking me for my advice, more people enjoying the utter bullshit that I spout. Not to mention two articles in the Londonist. Any suggestions on how to get more publicity? Time to beg the socialist tossbags at Vice to do an article on it?
All this fun has had a pretty major downside though.
My weight. I have put on 15kg since April. That’s shocking. I have totally lost control of my eating habits – anything less than 3,000 calories is now a good day. Yeah I know. WTF?
I worked out recently (in my head) that I can only lose weight when two of the following are present: time, energy, motivation. I lost the motivation, and I rarely have the time. And often I don’t have the energy. What I was saying earlier about cutting out alcohol being the solution to anything that can be improved? Alcohol takes my time, it taps my energy and at times, motivation. I lost 7kg on my 3 month detox last year (albeit put some back on near the end). People say, “just do some exercise” or “just do things in moderation”. I don’t have time for exercise and have you ever known me do moderation? Do you secretly call me James “Moderation” Winfield?
Also I lost a fair chunk of my meagre savings on the stock market, putting paid to my dreams of going to Japan in 2019…well…unless I have some good news soon.
Don’t worry – there are plans to address my shortcomings. But shortcomings I most certainly have.
I started 2018 with quite a lot of shortcomings as a web developer. That is the other thing that I focused on this year – I don’t feel that I have achieved all that I could have done, yet I look back and think it is just quite amazing how far I have come – from struggling to do jQuery fixes, to managing fairly major projects from start to end, and most importantly – learning a framework, AngularJS. I won’t go into too much techie detail, but I was most definitely a junior web developer at the beginning of the year. I am most definitely much further on now – alas, still paid as a web junior developer.
I accept that I have fucked up in a couple of places this year, and that I still a way from who I want to be. But mostly, and overall, I am on the right path. I am so much happier than I used to be – having changed from moaning about air conditioning to moaning about tube trains. I previously put a lot of effort, and some risk, into changing my life – a huge change in career path, and also a change of city (via Bracknell…shudder). And it has been so worth it.
I know what I have to do to make 2019 even better.
2018 was the most fun year that I’ve had for some time – and my life hasn’t been short of fun. I haven’t mentioned the World Cup, the weather, the long, hot summer, the morass of ridiculously attractive women everywhere. There are so many highlights that I’ve missed out. But 2018 also had some shortcomings, and some failures on my part. I don’t want to overblow the downsides – there is far much more to be satisfied and positive about.
So, a pretty damn good year overall. The power is within me to make 2019 even better.
Thanks to everyone who helped make it such a good year.
As I type this now, I must admit that the service has been much better this month on the Metropolitan line – or at least I’ve got lucky in terms of avoiding the signal failures.
However, one particular journey stands out from 2018 which was such a clusterfuck that I needed answers. Would I get them?
I guess I should be amused that you are trying to charge me £8.00 for the clusterfuck of a journey on Thursday 4th January, that took nearly 3 times as long as it should have. Surprised you are not charging me for a season ticket just to really rub salt in the wounds.
So last week I was ill. I’ve had a cold, I’ve had a comedown and a fairly extreme hangover. I had already had enough when I got to Moorgate at on Thursday evening at 18:06 – a true centre of confusion. A train was sat at the platform, doors open, going nowhere – though I couldn’t fit on it anyway.
Nobody announcing what was happening (or wasn’t), after a while some people got off the train, so I got on. Then after a while, the train driver announced that there was a broken down train between Barbican and Farringdon. So I got off and pondered my options.
At first I tried to get through the staircase to go to the Northern line – but it wasn’t going anywhere. So I left the station by the other exit (I guess I mustn’t have swiped out), and ended up walking to Bank station. Queued to get through the ticket barriers, waited for a tube I could get on, and stood close to a rather stinky woman – though I don’t profess to exhale flowers myself come 6pm.
So the Central line at rush-hour is minging. Who knew?
Then I had a short journey on the Bakerloo line to Baker Street. Which was actually quite pleasant – hell I even got a seat. Albeit opposite someone who was either talking to himself or me – I pretended to be oblivious.
One assumed that seeing as the broken down train was between Barbican and Farringdon, that everything would be fine from Baker Street – perhaps a couple less trains. But no, the whole service had collapsed.
Some mystery services were appearing on platform 2 despite the fact that the service was apparently suspended Aldgate to Baker Street – one assumes they must have been appearing from some parallel universe. Not that it was any use to me, as I couldn’t get on any of them.
But there were trains on the two non-through platforms. Due to leave in 1 minute. This was one, long, possibly ever-lasting minute as both trains that I attempted to catch from Baker Street simply never went anywhere, despite a consistent promise that they were about to.
Your chaps then started advising people to use the Jubilee Line to Wembley Park – where a normal service was allegedly operating from.
Again, crammed on a tube, it eventually made its way to Wembley Park. Where I then proceeded to wait forever for a Metropolitan line train due in “1 minute”.
I could go on, but this was the most appalling journey home – yet another service failure from TFL on the Metropolitan line.
So, some questions. Why did the whole service seem to collapse? Why are there no contingency plans to ensure a good service on the rest of the line away from the broken train? Why were tube trains just sat there at Baker Street? Why were trains perennially leaving in 1 minute?
Then I would respectfully like to ask for some refunds. At the minimum, I should not be charged both the £8.00 and the £4.70 for the way home. Any other company would offer reasonable additional compensation for distress, disinformation and delay.
Hoping that I actually get some answers to the service failure from last Thursday – I am sure there are many other severely frustrated passengers who would like an explanation too.
Thank you for your recent email about your contactless card refund.
I understand you sent in bank details to have a refund for a journey and I appreciate you contacted us.
I`m more than happy to inform you I`ve sent £12.70 to your bank account.
This is a manual bank transfer that can take up to five working days to show on your bank statements.
Further on your question automatic refunds are reversed back to payment cards as there is no human interaction but as this is a manual refund we’re not able to do so.
We highly recommend not sending bank details by email for security purposes. In this case there is nothing to worry about as your bank account number and sort code are just used to pay in but keep it in mind for the future.
I do apologise for the time consuming and I wish you all the best.
Thanks again for contacting us. If there is anything else we can help you with, please reply to this email. Alternatively, you can call us on 0343 222 1234 and we’ll be happy to help you.
Customer Service Adviser
Transport for London Customer Services
Of course, no answers. Things like this still happen.
Christmas is over. Normality is returning. Sobriety is around the corner.
As usual, I went to Hull to see my parents and some of the extended family, for 5 nights. About 1 night too many for me, about 360 nights too short for my mum.
It being time with the family, meant that the television was on much of the time – there is only so much I have to say before I start boring myself let alone everyone else (verbally, anyway). I guess there is something kind of comforting about sitting around together on the off-chance that we can prise my mother away from QVC onto one of the few things we have in common. Like Hull.
Conveniently, Hull City were on Sky so I didn’t have to find excuses as to why I didn’t want to go to the KC Stadium to watch them (I don’t want to give any money to the bastards who own us), and despite going 1-0 down, we came back to win an entertaining game 3-2.
Topping that, my favourite thing we watched was about Hull, called A Northern Soul. A documentary about an ordinary working bloke from Hull, one struggling with the realities of life in Hull (and espousing the reasons that I escaped as soon as I could) but one who has a dream. I won’t ruin it, but it was melancholic, funny and very Hull. You should watch it.
Oh and we watched an early 90’s film called Point Break. About surfers who become bank robbers. You shouldn’t watch it.
Culture in Hull is a major thing, as you will likely understand, so we went to a photography exhibition at the university, about the end of the fishing community in a part of Hull called Hessle Road. Some of the photos are here for the curious, and my favourite is below:
The other thing apart from Hull that we all have in common as a family, is enjoyment of food. And roast dinners.
My mother cooked a banging Christmas dinner. Definitely an 8 out of 10 – the weird frozen parsnips and crappy frozen stuffing balls took the edge off – but perfect roast potatoes, and I mean PERFECT, along with banging gravy (cheers sis) made it an awesome dinner. Alas my mother still hasn’t got the hang of cooking beef, ie longer is not better. And I cooked the Boxing Day meal, though I was disappointed with how my braised beef turned out too.
I received some presents too. I was desperate for socks, and my appetite was sated.
Alas, my grandmother’s idea of good socks isn’t mine. She asked if I liked them – and you know me, I am pretty rubbish at lying. So she told me to give them to my Dad, and I said “OK, I’ll do that”. Cue evil look. Bless her.
I got a couple of great t-shirts too (well, I love them) and the piece de resistance – my mum knitted me a scarf. And it’s actually an awesome design, just the kind of thing I would buy.
Envy is not attractive, my friends.
I couldn’t help thinking about those not as lucky as me. Those without families to spend time with, or those on the streets. I wish there was some kind of over-arching solution that I could enact, to resolve the difficulties of everyone, alas…there isn’t. I’ll just have to settle for a donation to charity, and the knowledge that I made the most of the time with my family. One day I’ll solve all the problems of the world. One day…
As much as I was ready to go back to London by Boxing Day, craving the comforts of a double bed and a shower that is more than a pointless dribble – even if it did mean that I spent 3 hours on Hull Trains feeling like I was a piece of toast under the grill, I think I made the most of the precious time with my wonderful family.
I guess that’s all I have to say. Time to go enjoy my last weekend on the pop until Easter, although not too crazily as I’m really craving doing healthy stuff now. So much so that I’m tempted to stay in on NYE and just have a pie and a bottle of wine – being able to get up the next day and get on with whatever I deem necessary – like moving this shitty Blogger blog to WordPress and the 21st Century.
I hope you had as wonderful a Christmas as myself.
Oh yeah, why did I get 4 bottles of shower gel but no deodorant? What is that about?
There is an argument at the age of 38 and with several fillings and a few teeth missing, that I should have learnt my lesson and stopped eating sweets.
But stuff that. Life is short and I love sugar.
And Sports Mixtures are one of my favourite sweets – that and Tangfastics, I find hard to go a day without one. Or two. Or three. And I wonder why I’m fat.
Anyway, before I bore you rigid about my new weight-loss plan that will never work, I would like to make a complaint about Sports Mixtures.
Normally they are awesome -80% of the time, the pack is fresh, squidgy and fruity.
But occasionally, around 20% of the time and this is not a new thing, they are really hard, ugly and dry…a bit like me on a Monday.
Why is this? This has been happening for years – since Lions used to produce them. It is like some packs get freshly made sweets, and others get dry sweets that have been left on the side for weeks.
I should have kept the most recent packet that this happened with, but am happy to inform you when it next happens – it happens roughly one in every 5 packs. Maybe a little less frequent.
I hope you can find out why this is happening, and fix it.
Dear James Winfield,
Thanks for getting in touch with us; we want our consumers to always enjoy our products. Please be assured that any changes to products are implemented only after very thorough research and evaluation, and we are sorry that on this occasion you are disappointed.
We have made a small change to the proportions of the ingredients we use in our Sports Mix sweets; the new blend of ingredients also means that our Sports Mix sweets will have a softer texture, something that we know from feedback, our customers would prefer, while still having the same great taste.
Again, we are sorry that the change to the product does not suit your taste, and please be assured that your comments have been duly noted, and will be shared with the relevant colleagues.
I have had enough. And I am not talking about Brexit.
The Metropolitan line has become so bad that I’m getting home close to 8pm. Today, I was on a tube stuck outside Harrow-On-The-Hill, awaiting a platform as both northbound platforms were occupied by other trains. Neither of which apparently had a driver. Fucking brilliant.
A good 15-20 minutes just stuck there, going nowhere, until the train finally moved, so I could then sit on the platform for a while and wait for my end destination train to arrive – which was stuck outside awaiting a platform. Plus a bit of earlier slowness due to a signal failure.
At the moment, I am getting out of bed at 6:30am and getting home at 7:45pm, on average.
This is a long day. I am tired. I am drained. I almost want to just say “fuck it” and quit my job.
Which would be stupid. I actually really enjoy my job – the working part is great – I still pinch myself sometimes when I remember the shit I used to do for work. I’m challenged every day, I am learning so much – I have great colleagues and an excellent manager. I do get paid a relatively shit wage, and they do ask me to do things I hate like going to Luton – or go flyering – which is due to be timed for the next Beast From The East – like…fuck off. But the work itself – it was my dream, and it is perfect.
I see what you are saying. Why don’t I move house?
I currently live by myself. I definitely will not get such a good deal elsewhere (Brexit?). Is it worth the pain and the long days? I’m not sure.
I actually had a look for rooms this morning, a bit closer to work – not hugely but enough to get me off the Metropolitan line, without using a sweatbox line either. But all the half-decent rooms were at least £100 more than I pay now. I need to reduce costs. Not increase them.
Also playing into this is the ridiculous amount of weight that I’ve put on. Almost every week I hit a new highest weight. My belly has become ridiculous. Sometimes people overtake me when I’m walking. I almost waddle occasionally. My ankles ache under the weight sometimes. It isn’t far off 20kg that I’ve put on from just before I started this job.
Sometimes I look at fat people and imagine saying to them, “go on a fucking diet”. Then I remember I’m fat. Obese, actually.
It isn’t so easy though. Last week I was refreshed after a week off, and managed to go 4 days of proper healthy eating. I lost a little weight. Then I drank on Friday night, ate too much food, and ended up consuming 5,000 calories (not an unusual amount for me when drinking). Saturday I felt crap so needed comfort food. Sunday too, though less. Monday I went to Luton and we ate shit food for lunch – I got home late and just had junk food. Tuesday I felt shit and ate loads. And on…I should be able to reverse the pattern tomorrow – as I can relax and have a lay down if I feel tired – not having to shove something sugary down my throat just to give me some very temporary psychological benefit.
All being well, I will start next week being healthy – until something goes wrong. I’m so mentally weak when it comes to controlling my eating at the moment. The slightest thing – just waking up in the morning not having had enough sleep is enough to mean the whole of the rest of the week eating unhealthily. One bad day and I cannot catch up with myself, as I’m working these long hours and getting home at silly times, and always being tired.
So I’ve had my moan. I’ve set out what is wrong. I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t have a plan to fix my problems. I just haven’t quite decided on that plan yet. And no it doesn’t fucking involve exercise – I DO NOT HAVE THE TIME OR ENERGY.
If I’m going to move house then I need more money.
There are only two ways of increasing my salary – a promotion or a new job. I don’t want to do the latter. But I’ve proven myself and there is still no promotion. Maybe it will happen in the next few months. Maybe it won’t.
Until I decide that, then there is no point in looking for somewhere else to live. I could move house to somewhere more convenient for my current job, then still not get a promotion and get offered a job in west London – I’d then have another long commute. As dumb and pointless as Brexit. Actually nowhere near as dumb, but you get me. Booyakasha.
I actually updated my CV last weekend. Amazing what being told to go to Luton on a Monday, not long after learning of the upcoming flyering, can do. I still don’t want to have to go ahead with it. I’m nothing as a human being if I’m not loyal. But maybe I should be more selfish.
It isn’t an easy decision to make. But something has to change – such long days give less meaning to my existence.
Also in January my new detox starts. 90 days and 90 kg.
Which will be a minimum of 90 days without alcohol, but also reaching a minimum weight of 90kg. I’m currently 103.5kg and this year I lost 6-7kg during my detox (put 13 back on) so extrapolating this could mean 6 months of no drinking. Which as you can imagine, I don’t want. The theory being that I subsequently put more effort in before my detox starts, so I’m not sat in a Spanish piazza in May drinking agua.
And if I put weight back on after my detox like I did this year, then I’m going to punish myself with vegan roast dinners.
Something has to change. I have to change. As much fun as I’ve had this year, as much as I really do enjoy my job – I cannot continue on this current path.
Therefore my main goal for next year, one that I hope to achieve in the first few months, is to gain back at least one hour a day of my life.
Time to take back control.
ps Apart from the above, it has been the best year for years. I’m trying my hardest to be miserable right now, but failing. I’m still happy.
We haven’t spoken for a while, which for most people other than my mum, is probably a good thing. Definitely for you, as it means I have something to moan about and then you have to spend time refunding me the half a cucumber or whatever it is that I am moaning about. Though the Metropolitan line is taking the brunt of my moaning capacity at the moment.
My lack of contact means that I’m either too busy or I’m happy, and until this delivery I was both.
Only one issue, the tomatoes – very nice but expensive tomatoes, had a huge patch of mould on them when I opened them.
They were dated 8th November, but when I opened them on 6th November I noted the mould.
I will leave it with you, and may I take this opportunity to wish you not only a Merry Christmas, but also a Happy Easter, in the hope that I won’t have need to write to you before then – I barely have time to text my grandma let alone complain to you.
All the best
(random image stolen from the internet)
Thank you for getting in touch and letting us know about this. I apologise that the tomatoes were delivered with mould on them, I have reported this to the store so they have been made aware they were delivered like this. I have refunded the tomatoes back on to the account.
I think our loving relationship is over. I didn’t even get a “Dear James” from them.