The only way is down, baby

Yesterday morning, after a day of double feasts, I weighed 106.6kgs. That is the most I will weigh, ever again. I have been bigger, it didn't suit me, I will not go there again. I have no reasons for eating more than what will keep me healthy, now that the obligations of Christmas have passed.

I now have Bec's wedding to look forward to, and I am determined to have the dressmaker cut a huge amount of fabric from the gown I have bought. I am still trimmer than when I first really dedicated myself (and subsequently got retrenched, thus depressed, and heavier), probably due to the regular exercise I've been doing, but no matter how much muscle there is on these bones, I want less fat getting in the way.

Aside from a sensible eating plan, I think that the biggest factor in my success will be my personal trainer... Stu bought me Kinetic for Eye Toy (in addition to some other lovely gifts, and a deliciously sweet card), and already my muscles are aching after a PT session with my digital taskmaster, Matt. The magical software has set up a twelve week program for me, based on my answers to a small questionnaire. It starts with a warm up, then you move on to an aerobic workout, then an anaerobic workout, then strength training, and finally a stretching session.
You can also do meditation, tai chi and random workout sessions. It's fantastic, because they can actually see what you're doing, and provide appropriate advice, comments and motivation, unlike a video. They also know when you're slacking off, and don't like it when you hit 'pause' so that you can tell the software not to include the sofa as a player. Also, I can afford to do this three times weekly, as is recommended, with walks, bike rides and runs thrown in on the alternating days. At this point in time, I just couldn't do that with either a gym or a real personal trainer, but we all know I need the motivation.

Stu's on holidays now, so we're looking forward to a few weeks of living based on our whims, during which time I will try to ignore the fact that I am unemployed (a surefire way to dampen the mood!). I've applied for a few absolutely fantastic, well suited opportunities, (one with a leviathan competitor of the Fizz Factory, the other a massive trade partner with whom I've had many important communications.) Fingers crossed that one of those wonderful people at the other end see my potential.

Kisses to all!

Downtime

It's all a ghastly nightmare, my friends.

Over the last week, I've been really down. The last time I cried for myself (and not Bert) was last weekend, and it set the tone for the week to come. I just want to contribute to my household. Sure, there's the payout, but I would really prefer to leave that in my savings, and use it to our future advantage.
However, add this delightfully festive time, with the expectations of presents and cheer, and my cash is needing to be stretched further. Because of Christmas, good opportunities are thin on the ground, so it's unlikely that I'll see work any time soon. And of course my dentist feels that I need two preventative fillings, and to have my wisdom teeth removed, but all of that can wait until I have a regular income.

So I'm a little bit depressed. And what does an emotional eater do when depressed? You guessed it, I didn't really restrain myself as one should when following the WW routine. No bingeing craziness, and I still worked out, but just an extra dollop of light mashed potatoes here, and a small serve of frozen custard there, was enough to help me pile on 1.9 kgs. I lost 0.2kgs last week, so it all equates to a total weight of 105.6 kgs. Joy.

I'm going to behave every single day of this week - no treats, nothing extra. On Christmas day, I'll enjoy one last hurrah. And then I am going to bust my ass. Points perfectly balanced, workouts strenuous, less salt, less sugar points.

I'll be posting pictures to prove my efforts have not gone to waste, but I'm determined to have lost at least 10 kgs by Bec's wedding in early April. And you all have permission to reprimand me for doing anything different. I can't justify the expense of WW meetings at this point, so I need you as motivation.

It's Christmas week, however, so my childlike giddiness is setting in! La la la.

Friday Fact

I am such a wussy sentimentalist.

I couldn't help but shed a tear when Bert took his last trip down the Channel Ten elevator while his colleagues, past guests, and family sang 'That's What Friends Are For'.

I hated this show, mostly. I enjoyed the witty repartee, but it is my unfortunate observation that entertainment comprised approximately 20% of GMA's programming. Moira and her gang of enthusiastic advertisers molested the rest of the schedule, making GMA a mostly frustrating experience.

However, I can't help but feel for Bert, who must feel so utterly rejected. Yep, I'm sure that the folks over at the ballpit will wipe his tears with healthy cheques, but that wouldn't lessen the pain of the 'You're too old' meeting.

Kerri-Anne will have her gaudy hot-pink leopard print knickers in an excited twist - no competition! There are rumors that either Mark Holden or Kyle Sandilands will take up Ten's lazy-person's breakfast slot, so I reiterate - no competition!

Libra

The eerily serene Karen Moregold had an unwelcome message for me today:

Lucky Day - Wednesday
Crisis Day - TODAY!

So, astro lady, may I go for my walk today? Will I be hit by a car? Should I apply for jobs? Will Samurai hack me to pieces? Is shower drowning likely?

Honestly, what good does this news do for anyone?

Peep!

Okay...

• Monday - I stayed exactly the same again, weight wise. I would almost rather gain, at least then I would know that my scales are working!
  
• On Wednesday, I fell over, and acquired myself a twisted ankle, plus an ugly gaping wound on my left shin. Much love to the pharmacy ladies who patched me up.
  
• Yesterday, I met with a recruitment consultant. This service has been supplied by the Fizz Factory, as a parting gift, of sorts. This delightful lady, M, placed me at the Fizz Factory, so we know each other well enough, and it's comfortable knowing that I'm navigating this enemy territory with a co-pilot.
  We identified my deep longing to pursue market research (oooh - statistics!), however M recommended a few opportunities which would be a lovely fit otherwise. Both great positions, with lovely remuneration rates, alas, geographically undesirable. Currently, my desperate need to work is telling me "Apply!", however, my rational side says "Don't! You hate travelling too far to work." It was half an hour to Fizzland by car, and I would have to say that 45 minutes driving is my max. I'm happy to do public transport for a while, which will always take longer, but it is my eventual aim to not have to leave the house before 7:30 am. I'm too picky for my own good, but really, I'm a 'work to live' type.
  
• I picked up my bridesmaid's dress for Bec's wedding today. Far too big already, the seamstress will have a heart attack when I take it for alterations in late February. At least this means I'm losing inches, if not kilograms.
  
• I miss you guys.
  Suss, baby, I think of you all the time, type you silent thought messages throughout the day. When your schedule opens up, I'm yours.
  Jicksypop, let's catch up, I need your trademark optimism! (And to find out what it is you wish you hadn't said!)
  Deej, can you please come by and be my diet coach? Oh, and I emailed you, as urged by my alternate lover.
  Special K, keep up the good work. My intuition says you're a hottie, but WW will definitely help you to feel fantastic, even if it takes time.
  
• I love, love, love my fiancee. He's so patient and supportive, and just taught me how to perform line breaks, to override Blogger's awful excuse for formatting.

Belated Fact

Shaun Micallef is one lovely fellow.

We met him on Friday, at a book signing in the city. We've met him before, at a taping of his show. But this time Stu had the opportunity to ask a question about his influences, and Python, a topic dear to both their hearts.

It was so lovely to see them both light up, engaging like old friends. Shaun's so charismatic, and though I didn't introduce myself (not being the 'fan' in our little duo), he seemed genuine in his happiness to have met me, as we chatted on the availablity of DVDs, their origins, and the ins and outs of region coding. All an act? Maybe, but he's good at what he does!

And seriously, my bust was smokin' hot that day, so how could he not have been happy to meet me? Heee!

DC3 for ever (pfft!)

As Stu left for work on his own this morning, I can't begin to describe how bereft I felt. So humiliated by all that had transpired in the last twenty four hours. I couldn't even enjoy a sleep in, so upset was I. So, I wept for a good fifteen minutes. Sobbed and allowed myself to feel every bit of anguish, fear and hurt.

The uncertainty is bad, I really don't like not knowing what my future holds. I've gone through a kind of grieving process, you know, the denial-anger-bargaining-depression-acceptance scenario. Though, the anger phase tends to creep back up on me if I dwell on the situation. Like, 'It's his fault for not utilising resources effectively', or 'Trust men to fire an engaged girl with no qualifications just before Christmas'. It bites, but it is what it is, and it's not healthy to dwell.

Everyone's telling me how employable I am, how I'll be back on my feet in no time. I sincerely hope that is the case. But at this time of year, my efforts will likely be hindered. Who employs staff over the holidays? And really, I'm picky. I don't do weekends, I am very reluctant to take calls, I want it to be within a reasonable distance from home, I want career progression. All this from a person who doesn't have a license, doesn't have a degree. Hurrah.

So, I did some sudoku, calmed down, then my conscience yelled "Get over yourself woman!" I pulled on my running gear, and left.

Thank the heavens above for Destiny's Child. (Don't diss me!)
Just as my stride began to languish, 'Survivor' popped up, and inspired me to run twice my usual distance. 'Happy Face' reminded me to appreciate the beauty of the little things. However, their song featuring the line 'Thank you, Lord, hallelujah, you've been so good to me' was a little lost on this little bruised duck.
Regardless, feeling all womanly and empowered, I continued down the Nepean highway, investigating the streets studded with homes belonging to those ridiculously privileged, with views of the bay and Sweetwater Creek. I found the quaint little shopping strip on Norman Avenue, which all the real estate guides praise so enthusiastically. A cool shower washed away the evidence of my efforts, likely saving me from heatstroke! An elderly couple offered me firewood. And after two and a half hours of running, walking, blisters, and 'glowing' (I am a lady, after all!), I jogged home one happy chicky.

I'm optimistic. I'm looking forward to bumping into former colleagues as a slimmer, healthier Janet. I'm looking forward to the phone call telling me that I can start work on Monday. But for now, I'm glad that I can lighten Stu's burdens by taking care of all the chores, and catch up on Dr. Phil, Oprah and Entertainment Tonight, and be paid for it! (Seriously, I have to focus on the positives.)

Biggest positive - Sussy's birthday!
I'm so deeply in love with this girl, and wish for her every happiness. Enjoy the next two hours, precious pie!