Category Archives: motivation
Part Two of the “Five Things I Need to Change Round Here” Series
Part Two: “Getting a New Morning Routine”
Again, inspired by a recent blog post by Sarah Wilson (my fave lifehacking blogger by a long shot), I have realised that my morning routine needs a massive overhaul.
On a side note, after reading said post, I have hereby decided that Winston Churchill’s morning routine is:
a) my personal fave; and
b) utter proof that of his considerable responsibilities, child-rearing duties were apparently not one.
The thing is, when it currently comes to my morning routine, I don’t think the motions I go through really qualifies…
7.30am – Am awoken by screaming and/or a child of some description jumping on my head. I do wish I was joking.
7.35am – General denial that the day has started without me.
7.38am – Somebody brings me a cup of coffee. This is usually my hubby (bless) or my daughter (bless) with a coffee that were I making it, would be deemed too watery. But at 7.38am with sleep in my eyes and with no effort on my part to get it into my hands? Bless.
7.42am – Pry myself up and into the kitchen, where I proceed to throw lunch into the kids lunchboxes. This is if they haven’t just seized the day and started doing it THEMSELVES. Yes. I can’t believe it either.
(Note: this was completely without prompting. Indeed, I suspect that the only contribution I had to this ‘we’ll make our own lunches from now on’ development is my ridiculous lazy slowness of throwing lunches together. Hence, their response to take it on themselves. They’re fast. They throw in what they want. And presto! Early to school for handball.)
7.43am – Wonder whether I’m a bad mother.
7.44am – More coffee. Wondering ceases.
8am – 8.30am – Wave the kids off to school and stare at my toddler, who stares back at me with a look that says “What the shizz do you expect me to do now?”
8.30 – 9am – Try to avoid staring at my kitchen. Eye off the cornflakes on the floor. Talk threateningly to them. Occasionally dab stuff with a cloth. Drink more coffee.
Ergo, not exactly a routine. More a scene breakdown of a very sad sitcom. Seriously. All I need is to add an annoyingly pert neighbour and a lesson at the end and I’ve got a crappy development deal.
In my defence, this state of affairs isn’t total laziness. Part of the way I get things done round here, you see, is to do most of them late at night. A typical night for me is bed at 1am. Sometimes earlier. Usually later.
My hubby knows and supports this move – it is, after all, a choice that lets me play stay-at-home Mummy bear throughout the days (with work squeezed in here and there around Mister 2’s naps, etc.) – meaning that he is cool with me sleeping later than I would otherwise do and hence the fam being on caffeine duty.
Secondly, I have a thyroid issue, which, while being treated, does mean that my energy levels are not what they oughta be. And my hair falls out.
Point is, there are reasons for this gross neglect of quality morning time. Don’t get me wrong, I am also completely and utterly lazy. I’m just saying that’s not the ONLY factor playing a part in this morning pile of steaming turd.
So yes. Morning routine. It has to happen. For a little while there in Canada I had a thing going where I’d wake up before the kids, have a herbal tea and a shower, followed by some writing. It was awesome. And it lasted a week.
But…it has to happen.
Now. Ideas.
I’m thinking exercise (Wii Fit perhaps most realistic, given that babysitting is not an issue, I can’t use the weather as an excuse to get out of it and my avatar makes me look like Uma Thurman – you know, if she was rather chubby), followed by a shower and writing.
And coffee…which, I should be changing to herbal tea.
But come on, for now, let’s not get crazy.
*Image courtesy of Lynda C Watts
Part 1 of the “5 Things I Need to Change Round Here” Series
Things change. Just ask Bob.
For the record, let me assure you I have no intention of becoming a lifehacking blogger – I think the gazillion out there are doing a perfectly adequate job without my help.
But I have been really contemplating some changes that need to happen in my life; I started writing a list of them on here, only to realise very quickly that when it comes to each of them, I actually have quite a bit to say.
So rather than risk writing a novel on here (I love how I have the gall to refer to that kind of productivity as a ‘risk’), I’m doing what I do best in surviving the daily parenting grind of all three of my kidlets: I’m dividing and conquering.
Ergo, may I humbly present…
Part One = SLOW THE SHIZZ DOWN, DEARY
Tonight, after an extremely late night the eve before (spent seeing my dear friend from school days Sarah Collins’ very lovely show: seriously, I teared up more than once), I found myself pooped, irritable and heading straight for the computer to do my work…only to be interrupted by my hubby who staged a most brilliant intervention in the form of a candle lit bubble bath, incense and herbal tea. (And no, that’s not a metaphor).
And oh by heavens, was it needed. At the risk of going all Scooby Doo on your ass, what more can I say other than…
Note: I prefer to use said exclamation as one of wonder and general reverence.
It was halfway through this bath, however, as I was drinking a glass of lemon infused water (yes, he put LEMON in it. I don’t know why that makes me want to do jumping jacks but it does…) that I realised that I was engaging in a ridiculous quest to finish the water as quickly as possible.
Then it hit me. WHY THE FREAKING RUSH?
I know the answer of course. It’s a shocking habit which has been long entrenched: I eat fast, I type fast, I am obsessed with getting things done and making them happen…NOW! This ridiculous obsession with overachievement, no doubt stems back to losing my mother young, meaning that I realised very early on in my life that this life thing is most definitely finite and therefore, one should proceed through it trying to suck every last morsel out of it as quickly as possible – as though it were a buffet on a sushi train that might not ever come back.
The only problem is that – just like sculling my lemon infused water – I then rob myself of really experiencing the flavours. Worse still, I get indigestion. And worse even than that, is that even if I do manage to find enjoyment in there, within seconds I’ve digested it and it’s all over. Next.
Timely then that an hour or so later I read this great post on Sarah Wilson’s blog (which I love more the longer I read it) about the need to slow things down and specifically, how “being great takes time.”
I do want to be great.
I do need to take time. (Longer timeframes on goals. For the small and big things).
And dear heavens, I need to engage in more bubbly bathdom.
(And no, that’s not a metaphor.)
I know what I need to do….but HOW?!??!?!?!
FAQ on the Sugar Detox
Image courtesy of hubpages.com
So since I posted the last announcement regarding my current 28 day leap into the insanity that is sugar-free living (well, at least in my world it’s classified as insanity; I must admit, when it comes to madness, we don’t set the bar real high around here) I’ve received everything from encouragement to disbelief to questions about how on earth this thang actually works.
Ergo…
FAQ 1: How on earth are you dealing with no chocolate?
Oh dear friend, on around day 6 or 7 (of the first round i.e. before we re-started the clock…read here for full details if you haven’t done so already) I jumped up and down with delight when I discovered this sugar free dark chocolate. SQUEEEEEE!!! The peppermint crisp one is my fave.
Surely this is the best invention since actual dark chocolate. The draw back of course, is that it’s ridiculously expensive. I wish I could say that this has meant I resort to it sparingly…thus far it’s only meant that my littlest might need to make do without nappies this week.
FAQ 2. What’s the actual sugar detox thing that your sister-in-law saw on Oprah?
It’s called Doctor Oz’s Sugar Free in 28 Days Challenge. All I know I’ve heard from my sister-in-law herself i.e. it’s all second hand to my ears, but thus far my understanding is it’s a 28 day challenge to be sugar free. Run by Doctor Oz.
Next.
FAQ 3. So how are you dealing with all the hidden sugars in food? There’s sugar in so many different things, aren’t there?
Yup!
Well the detox is actually divided into four different stages i.e. one per week. Week one (which I am still in now) means quitting all OBVIOUS sugars in your diet. i.e. added sugar to cereal, coffees, etc. as well as any sweet foods such as biscuits, cakes etc…which in our case, as we’ve got the added forbidden food of gluten thrown in the mix, are off the menu anyway.
Then in week two you start getting more anal about it all, avoiding hidden sugars in sauces, for instance…and so on.
I will keep you posted as it goes on.
The cravings were especially bad in the first few days. Indeed if anything it’s really just drawn attention to what an INSANE sugar habit I had developed. I couldn’t believe how many times it crossed my mind to go eat sugary crap even in the first few hours of day one.
But in general, I’d say I’ve just been eating so much healthier as a result of having to put more thought into what it is that I CAN eat.
Typical day for me at the mo:
Breakfast: a poached egg or two. Plus either a herbal tea or a coffee, obviously 100% sans sugar (eventually I will cut out coffee completely too, not as part of the official detox but of my own volition – but two vices at a time seems like plenty for now)
Morning tea: Rice cake with avocado.
Lunch: Salad, with tuna or salmon or feta or tuna or chickpeas.
Afternoon tea: Herbal tea. Piece of fruit. (Note: we cut fruit out at some later point in the detox too. Stay tuned. This may kill me).
Dinner: Stir-fry veges with either rice or cous-cous.
Dessert: Usually NONE! Shock horror! My kids hate me!!!
After kids have gone to bed….Adult Dessert!
PS By that I do mean sugar-free chocolate.
Ehem.
How to Guarantee Health Kick Success via Dubious Means
Liz and I on Brooklyn Bridge in 2006. I love this photo. We look like travelling ghosts.
So for the very first time in my life, EVER, I finally believe that I’m gonna get on top of this body of mine (not in a freaky way, people) and actually treat it…well, you know…amicably.
I’d take my bow now, only this development has absolutely nothing, I repeat NOTHING, to do with me. Rather, it’s all thanks to this little lady here. Introducing my adorable sister-in-law and soul mate in crime, Lizzy.
Lizzy is strictly gluten, egg and dairy free. As in strictly. As in, not a choice, but a serious health concern, FREE.
Me? I’m not strictly anything – aside from perhaps on occasion, gloriously certifiable – but that said, I do find that this little body operates a lot better when I’m staying away from the glutenous stuff. Also coffee. And sugar. You know. I’m SOOOO unlike everybody else in that way.
Anyhoo, so recently Liz and I were lamenting to each other about how crap we are at actually sticking to the style of eating that actually serves us best. And so the conversation turned to sugar, or specifically, about detoxing from sugar as Liz had spotted on an episode of Oprah.
“Let’s DO IT!” I said.
“Really? I will if you will!” said Liz.
“I feel the need…the need…”
Both: “FOR SPEED!”
Okay that last bit didn’t really happen.
But with that, we were onboard! The deal:
- neither of us could have any sugar OR gluten (and Liz had the added conditions of no egg or dairy, naturally) for 28 days
- if successful, we would both treat ourselves to a girly day at a health spa
- if ONE of us cheated, then NEITHER of us would get to enjoy the reward.
Days one and two were by far the worst. Headaches. Lethargy. All apparently normal.
By day seven I felt like a different person. Honestly. NO bloating, my skin looked different, I even got weighed (for a post-car accident appointment) and had already lost several kilos. I could not BELIEVE IT!!!!!
Then, on day nine…
Liz confessed that she cheated.
Oh man.
One of the first things out of her mouth was “I’m so sorry! You just keep going, and I have to start over…”
“Nope!” I said. “We both have to start over. Otherwise what’s the point?”
We chatted about it and I confessed that now my biggest worry was that I’d be more tempted to cheat myself, knowing that she couldn’t really get angry at me when she’d already done it herself. (Did I mention she’s also probably the sweetest, most soft-hearted woman on planet Earth? Seriously. She makes Mother Theresa look like Angelina Jolie. i.e. nice, but slightly dark.)
Then cut to last night, i.e. the end of our new day one.
Liz: “I’ve got it! Some new rules! And I know this time neither of us will cheat!”
Me: “Okay…what?”
Liz: “Well, here’s the deal. If I cheat, then you have to stop eating healthily.”
Me: “WHAT?”
Liz: “But I promise you Jen, there is no WAY I’m gonna let that happen! I so want you to succeed. And here’s what happens if you cheat…”
“If you cheat, I have to drink an entire litre of milk. Do you know what that will do to me? My stomach will blow up so much it will ache for days, my skin will break out so badly that I will not be able to leave the house for two weeks and it will probably make my guts bleed.”
Stunned silence.
Then…
“GENIUS.”
Goals for 2011
Write and shoot a pilot (and more!) of this sit-com I’m currently working on. Last night my best friend Frankie and I stayed up until the wee hours of the morning (her 30th birthday, no less!) sketching out a backbone for the entire show run. So freaking pumped!
Get Gumball Theatre running in a most professional and awesome manner. Note: I have actually formalised what this entails in my business plan musings, but for the purposes of readability here, will leave it at that!
Develop my solo show to a point where it is well and truly peformance ready – to pitch to festivals and the like for world domination in the latter half of 2011-2012.
Go to LA to become a ton better at solo and musical improv respectively. Happening. Agh.
Go to Edinburgh Fringe Festival.
Invite more people over to my house for socialising.
Taking up a new sport. Maybe it’s time to get back into tennis.
Regular date time with the hubbster.
Regular date time with the kidlets.
Eat fresh food.
Exercise daily.
DANCE.
Why statistics are bad for the soul
*Moderately whingey blog entry to follow. Enter at your own peril.
I have a confession to make.
I’m finding it hard to get over my ego. It’s big, you see. It trips me up, you see. And it bruises and bleeds so easily one would think it was a member of the early Royal Family. (With me? Ding ding!)
Oh, and it demands massages.
Looking at it on paper like that, one might wonder why I even bother keeping the damn thing around.
Why indeed?
Last night, you see, as I was sorting out this Gumball Theatre video business onto youtube, I saw the stats for the vids I’ve already got up there. Stats which, might I add, I never actually check.
But last night, I did. And – while I’d so much rather come on this blog now and type away how completely unaffected was I by the entire encounter, given how freaking cool I am – I have to be honest. I was really disheartened.
And the same’s been going for the good ole blog stats (which I do check a little more regularly – though I’d like to think not obsessively – than youtube).
Don’t get me wrong – I do have a loyal bunch over here. And I LOVE you guys for it, truly, madly, deeply! Passionately, even! With lollypops!
However, it is a small loyal bunch. Which is all well and good, except that I’ve been doing this ole blogging thing for a while now and well…it doesn’t seem like much has really changed.
Don’t get me wrong, this is NOT me trying to berate the people who actually come here for all the people who don’t. Not at all. I’m just trying to share the weirdness I’ve been feeling lately on the whole blog and indeed, career front. Which can really be summed up by this: have I been doing enough? And in what I have been doing, have I been doing it right?
And also – is growth the be all and end all? Cos to this point, I’ve kinda felt like it is. That the mark of a successful show/performer/blog is how many bums on seats – cyber or otherwise – there are.
Perhaps I wouldn’t even bother checking my stats if this were just a personal blog. What I mean is that while things do get personal on Comic Mummy, at the end of the day, this whole thing is meant to be a key part of what I do. It’s part of my career.
Which leaves me with yet another question: if things aren’t actually growing – i.e. if I’m getting the same bums on seats but they’re always the same bums on the same seats (jawsome) but with not many newbies either coming in or sticking around (not so jawsome), then what to do?
I’m thinking the options are something like:
1. Change something. Though, when I have gone all “I’m gonna read about BLOG GROWTH” on my own ass, then started applying it, it’s just felt…well, inauthentic.
2. Remind myself that growth can still be present, even if it’s not in terms of actual numbers. i.e. maybe I’m growing in terms of my writing? Let’s see….OIJjosDIFOJ. Not bad.
3. Decide once and for all why I’m actually doing this. And, more to the point, why I’m doing it if it NEVER EVER EVER grows in reader numbers beyond this point.
In summary, I’m now thinking that I’ve gotta work towards a point where I’m actually living the life that I love – including performing and blogging – so that both fit into my life in an awesome way, regardless of what that translates to in terms of “stats”.
i.e. life first, stats later. Or maybe never.
MIND BLOWING REVELATIONS PEOPLE! And it’s only 9am. Imagine what things will look like around here by 11.14!
Actually, scratch that. There is zero chance any housework will have taken place by then.
Purely based on the stats.
4 Semi-Coherent Thoughts On Keeping Momentum Going
I doubt I'd ever be game, but something deep within me freakin LOVES this.
My dear friend (and fellow chaser of the challenging performing/Mummy combination) Alex called me this morning, and asked me something which has since sent my cogs not just turning, but spiralling inwards on themselves in confusion not seen since I exposed the poor darlings to Inception:
“How do you keep your momentum going?”
I tried to answer, but realised afterwards that what I’d really been talking about was motivation, rather than momentum.
What she really meant (I think – or if not, this is where it’s sent me a-pondering, at any rate) was how do you:
a) keep the momentum of your career going, when…
b) trying to raise your family the way you want to, knowing that…
c) this child-rearing thang can sometimes send any momentum spiralling in a different direction?
Hmmm. Okay. Here goes.
1. Involving my family in the projects I undertake – including the kids.
This isn’t the case in every thing I do, and I’ve also read some fascinating interviews with mums who consciously do the exact opposite of this, keeping their kid/business worlds completely separate. However for me, I find that bringing my family directly into my creative life actually helps create the feeling that we’re a team. That we’re in this together. That the stuff I’m working on is actually important to all of us, rather than it being a performing versus family kinda thing.
My hope is – amongst other things- that when I do need to focus more attention on the projects from time to time, that my kiddlies, even if they don’t LIKE having Mummy’s attention diverted, can at least have some understanding and even ownership of it.
Specifically for me, this can mean enlisting the kids to help me out with making props, shooting silly videos together (some of which make it online, as you’ve seen), chatting about both my and their dreams and even inviting them along to shows. In fact, Miss 8, I’m proud to say, even took ALL of the promo pics for our first ever Gumball Theatre student show recently. Like this one:
She has been to a gazillion improv shows with me in Oz, Canada and the States, including having sat in on many notes sessions at Loose Moose Theatre, resulting in her having a very highly developed sense of what she does and doesn’t like onstage…and not being afraid to tell me about it. Ouch, it burns, oh how it burns.
2. Having a most excellent to-do list system.
I borrowed this system from elsewhere on this wonderful world wide web (you heard me: wwww), the source of which I’m afraid I cannot recall at this moment, but shall post later. Unless, in the words of Shrek, I can’t find you or I forget.
But bottom line, EVERYTHING I need to do goes on this one list. Everything. It’s ridiculously long, but the great part is that the moment I have any free time, I don’t have to waste any of it stuffing around wondering what to do. It’s all there. I’ve just gotta follow it. Some days I won’t get a single thing done on it. Others I’ll get one. Others I’ll crack through a page.
But it’s all just little chips away at the goal.
3. Hanging Up the Idea of a Big Break
I kinda came to the conclusion a few years ago that there’s no such thing as a ‘big break’ but rather, a series of smaller breaks that all serve to get the ball rolling…and rolling…and rolling…until one day. POW! Big mother of a snowball!
So in terms of keeping this momentum going, I think it’s just trusting that every little thing you do – even if it’s just thinking about the next step or two – is part of that.
And finally, whenever I start to wonder if it’s even worth all the effort…
4. I Remind Myself That Failure IS an Option
Ooh, how mysterious am I?!?!?!?!?!
*swishing cape* (Bet you think I’m just typing that for effect, don’t you?)
*Image courtesy of Dude LOL
National Novel Writing Month! (Or, “Just Another Train Too Many I Feel Compelled to Jump On”)
In NYC - the tavern where the likes of Jack Kerouac hung out. And wrote. And drank.
So it’s time again for National Novel Writing Month!
I’ve signed myself up (cos you know, that’s exactly what I need right now. Another freaking project. What is WRONG WITH ME?! ) and I’m using these last few days of October to decide exactly which project to dedicate it to. Hmmmm. Actually, to heck with it! Let’s bring on the poll!
I mean, chances are, if you’re reading this, you’re obviously my kind of person (and I LOVE your hair!) which means in all likelihood, you’re my kind of audience. So…help! Pretty please?
Oh PS. I finally worked out how to allow for multiple choices, too, so click away! (That this discovery is likely to be the highlight of my week is…well, just what it is.)
Which book would YOU pick off the shelf?
(polls)
Part II – Three things in life are certain: death, taxes and rejection
Me at Disneyland last year, just after Mister 5's infamous half-day tantrum.
Okay, so here’s the deal.
Last week I found out (SQUEE!) that I got shortlisted for the Moosehead Awards at Melbourne International Comedy Festival. Needless to say, I was suitably stoked, but tried to side-coach myself to prepare for the likelihood that that would be it.
And so I did so, by focusing on the positives of NOT making it through. You know, with little coaching tips like :
“Well Jen, next year’s schedule is already looking rather ridiculous…” (with THREE overseas trips if everything pans out the way I hope it to);
“At least you applied! At least you tried!” (Paging Doctor Seuss); and
“Another month away from Brissie and trying to manage the kids and keep your marriage in tact would make things pretty tricky!”
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I didn’t want to get through – you can bet your bottom toddler I did – but I was just trying to prep. I even kept the shortlisting news very much to myself, cos I didn’t want to look silly if it turned out I didn’t get it after all.
Then of course, a few days later, the news came…
Rejection.
Believe me, the irony of me not wanting to feel stupid in case I didn’t make the cut, only to now be spilling out my very vulnerable guts on feeling stupid about not making the cut, is not lost on me.
But you know, I’m a writer. Turns out I have to write these things. It’s how I deal.
The truth is, all my valiant “prepare yourself for the worst!” efforts aside, when the call finally came through: I was pretty sad. Not for long, not tragically downtrodden, not lying in the middle of the traintracks, sobbing incontrollably into my bottle of moonshine, but you know. Sad.
And then I was annoyed at myself for even feeling sad. And then I was frustrated with myself for even being annoyed at myself for being sad. Next thing you know, there I am: Sybil.
Sad Me: “I have a right to be sad!”
Annoyed Me: “Well I have a right to be annoyed!”
Frustrated Me: “Hello? Over here? Frustrated!”
Rational Me: “JUST ACCEPT THAT YOU’RE FRUSTRATED COS YOU’RE ANNOYED COS YOU’RE SAD AND BE DONE WITH IT!”
Sad Me: “Oh you. You’ve just made me sad.”
Then of course, my default Pollyanna chimes in:
Pollyanna Me: “You know, it’s really probably for the best. I know you don’t feel it now, but I’m sure you’re gonna look back on this and realise it was actually a good thing to miss out. Look, the sun is shining! Fa la la la la!”
Annoyed Me: “Anybody gotta baseball bat?”
Anyhoo, a few days later and I’m really feeling cool about it. No really.
But it has gotten me thinking about rejection and why – even if we’re bracing ourselves for it – it still sucks buttocks.
It brought to mind specifically a couple of stories…
Many moons ago at university, I went out with this guy, let’s call him “T-Rex”, who in all honesty, I was never really all that into. Don’t get me wrong, he was a really lovely, sweet, smart and attractive guy, but until the moment he asked me out, I had never even thought of him in that way. The spark just wasn’t there. A rather blunt friend of mine at the time even said to me “He’s way too boring for you!” Anyway, point is, when I finally agreed, it was really more of a “Well, okay, let’s give it a go!” kinda deal.
A few weeks later, he broke up with me. Very nicely. Very amicably. Very mutually.
Yet, when he walked away, I shocked myself by crying.
What I realised soon-after was that I hadn’t been crying “I’ve lost him!” but “What do you mean, you don’t want me?!”
And the other tale…
A friend of mine recently went on a blind date with a guy she just wasn’t feeling it with. So when he emailed her soonafter asking for date #2, she shot back a suitably polite “thanks, but no thanks” message.
To which he shot back with: “Just so you know, I’m not interested either.”
Mmm-hmm.
***
Care to share your own woeful (or even not-so-woeful!) tales of rejection? How do you deal? I’d love to hear: misery loves company and so do I!
Pressure to be pretty exhausts me
Okay, I don’t mean to sound like a real wench here.
Truly, I don’t.
Butt…(extra ‘t’ intended), I have to say it.
While I totally adore this woman’s blog, her style, her shop, blah blah blah, whenever it comes to her “daily outfit” posts – which basically involve her posting photos of herself looking absolutely stunningly gorgeous, funkily adorned, made-up like a plush celeb and suitably blemish, hissy-fit and child-free, EVERY SINGLE DAY, I can’t help it.
I feel inadequate.
Don’t get me wrong, this seriously isn’t meant to be a judgement call on her – who the heck am I to throw stones? I’m as narcissistic as the next blogger – but I’m just calling it as I feel it.
As I see these photos with my eyes, day after day, I hear the question in my ears, day after day…how the heck does she do that?
And honestly, it’s not just envy doing the talkin. Sure, it’s getting its two cents’ worth in this conversation, but also entering into this fray is sheer unadulterated exhaustion.
That’s right.
All that gorgeousness makes me feel TIRED.
Cos I – who am having a good day if I remember to brush my crazy mane (I wish that was a joke) – know only too well, as I’m sure do the rest of you, how much F’ING EFFORT (oh my goodness, I nearly swore on here. By golly, I must be serious! Hoot’n'Toot!) it takes to look that good.
Heck, it takes effort just to get dressed.
I can only imagine what my daily outfit parade would comprise.
Monday – trackies and a t-shirt. With cereal on it.
Tuesday – same trackies. Possibly a different shirt. Possibly.
Wednesday – a Tiara. Made of plastic. Yes, it’s housework day.
Thursday – trackies. And on my top? Also trackies.
Friday – snot and spaghetti. What’s underneath it, we’ll probably never know.
So yes.
Anything that sets the bar above that causes me great fatigue.
And a bit of envy.
But as you know, I don’t like to board the envy train if I have any kind of choice in the matter. So, today my darling peeps, I present me trying to make lemonade out of grapefruit.
Yes.
I know.
Here are my daily sexy shots!
Blissfully hair, make-up and dignity free.
Green steel
Is it a bird? Is it a plane? Nope. It's a bird.
Sexy pout.
You know what?
I think I feel better.
Now where the heck did I put the Tim-Tams?
