Well, evil, mental or not, it seems at least some of my efforts are having positive results: 1. I have my first two actual blog followers! A beloved cousin and an old friend admittedly, but committed readers nonetheless. 2. My yoga obsessiveness has inspired another gal pal to start a yoga mini-mission of her own. Way to go! Hot bod summer here we come! 3. And my band mate Ben has done some work on the new song we recorded on Sunday. I'm going to swing by and check it out tonight. Fun! So by the looks of it, if I can just manage to banish my boy bitterness, reign in my sugar habit, and relax my grip on the controls a tiny, everything's pretty much sweet.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Day 22: sweet things.
Chocolate, fizzy drinks, ice cream. I thought after yesterday's unexpected burst of boy bitterness, a little sweetness might be in order. But not too much aye. I have noticed of late a mildly alarming trend in my behaviour that needs to be nipped in the bud. It is the habit of freely allowing myself the aforesaid treats on account of my no longer inhaling highly calorific boozyfizz every weekend. This is a mistake. As you may have noticed, I have slight control-freakish tendencies. I like the idea of doing things perfectly (and live in an almost constant state of disappointment as a result). If I manage successfully to abstain from alcohol, but fail to keep my diet on track EVERYTHING IS RUINED. I've warned you about this. I go to extremes. And yes, being me can be torturous at times. Anyway, so while the odd tonic water or non-diet coke of a night out is AOK, scoffing bickies and Magnums every two seconds is not. Phew. I'm glad we got that sorted. It's funny though, I do seem to have some kind of in-built self sabotage urge designed precisely to antagonise my inner perfectionist. It's like to balance out the yin of not drinking, yang has to come in and eat crappy food and smoke cigarettes (for the record, I haven't been smoking cigarettes, but they have been seeming alarmingly attractive since being off the booze). What's with needing to be bad? Why is it that while I want to be so good, I also feel the need to be evil? I even seem to prefer bad boys. Am I mental?
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