Harajuku Girls

Last night Shoes and I decided to go grocery shopping, since the weekend where we supposed to do nothing has somehow turned into a weekend where we're doing a whole bunch of things, and there's no time left for the basics. Sainsburys was really empty. Looking at the fresh produce, I now know why no-one shops on Thursdays. I could scarcely believe the state of some of the things on the shelves. The lettuces were labeled "display until Saturday" but two days before the axe is due to fall on their sorry lives, they look as if they've been ravaged by leprosy; great holes where crisp, dewy leaves are supposed to be and poo-brown edges instead of white.

Then it was off home to change and go to gym. Shoes is on a mission now, after slacking over the holiday periods, and I am sticking to his side like glue, as it's far easier to go with someone than to try and motivate myself on my own. Sometimes - many times - that task is simply too big for me. We got home from shopping at 7:15pm and were at gym by 7:30pm, which meant we were going to eat supper really late. We'd decided on pizza mid-shop as it's the quickest thing to make. The thing is, eating pizza at 9pm was probably not the best way to keep off those kilos that we'd just worked so hard at burning.

On my lunch break today I went to another coven and met the director, Mr Congeniality. Really nice guy. So helpful and sweet, his good intentions were tripping over themselves on their way to wrap me in their warm coat of security. Why do I always get my hopes up with these people? I can't help it. They seem like your best friends when you first meet them, like they'll move heaven and earth to get you your dream job. Had to shake my head violently on my way out to clear it of all hopes and dreams. Luckily it was raining, so passers-by may just have thought I'd got water in my ears.

There's an hour and a half of the day left, and then Scarf and I are off to go see Gwen Stefani at Wembley Arena. We are both acting like excited teenagers about this. Gwen is possibly the funkiest female artist to walk the planet (Scarf is huge on funkiness), and her songs are extremely catchy, annoyingly so if you don't like her. I even hear Shoes singing "There ain't no Hollaback Guuurrrrrrrl" when he thinks no-one is listening. It should be a great night out.

Hope Set High

Our office is enclosed in floor to ceiling glass walls, and right now I am watching a torrential rainstorm pound the barely visible streets below, while thunder rattles in the distance. It's so beautiful, and makes me feel quite small.

I've decided today that I am going to have a good day. That's not to say that anything has changed between yesterday's post and now. It's still tough, and I'm still struggling, but after speaking to Shoes last night, I decided that I should take my own oft-given advice: you can't control the hand you're dealt, but you can control how you play it.

I came home in utter misery, which turned into rage when I was changing for gym as I took an earring out and dropped my butterfly on the carpet. You know how that goes - it disappears into an invisible gaping maw, never to be seen again. And this was enough to infuriate me to the point of seeing spots before my eyes. Of course, I snapped at Shoes, who was unfortunately just breathing, and stormed out to try and pound it out on the treadmill. I must be seriously pissed off, because after half an hour of very hard cardio I was barely even breathing hard. It's funny, I remember back in the days I worked for a production company in Cape Town, I thought I could never hate anyone as much as I sometimes hated my boss - we won't bother with the reasons now. After a particularly frustrating day at work, I used to go to gym and pretend the treadmill was his head. On those occasions I found I could run faster and longer than should have been possible for my level of fitness at the time. I felt if I could enter the Olympics in that exact state, I'd take the gold.

While I felt slightly better after the workout, what I was actually trying to do was the run until the knot in my chest got shaken loose and could be purged, perhaps through my sweat. It didn't really work though, making me admit that perhaps a mental workout was the better answer.

Shoes was actually the one that started it dissolving though. He's very low key with the serious issues most of the time. You won't find him involved in lengthy conversations about feelings, the world, the way we are or where we're going. He's more chilled out - he prefers to talk sports and recreation. In fact, I struggle sometimes to initiate a "big discussion" with him. But he's proven to me again that when it really counts, he has a depth of wisdom which he doesn't often reveal. Suffice it to say that, after talking to him - or, rather him giving me a bit of a dosing - I sort of felt that I could breathe through the sludge in my veins again. I've always known I don't have to go through things alone, but I still don't do the sharing thing very well. I share other people's burdens quite easily - lay it on! But my own... I think it's because I always think I have a better answer than anyone else. I stand corrected. Sometimes it has to be snatched out of my clawing fingers. It takes a lot to push Shoes to the point where he will do that, but I'm always very glad when he does.

So, as this is supposed to be a new beginning of sorts (ok, it's my 67th one this year, but I am nothing if not tenacious), I'm going to write one thing in every post that I am really lucky to have, or that I am very thankful for. I am really lucky to have - and also very thankful for - a partner who always lets me be myself, until he sees that me being myself isn't working; when being myself is letting me down. And that he then knows what to do to bring me back out of myself again. Confusing? Not to me. ;-)

Wow, the sun just came out! Perhaps this is God's way of giving me a sign to say I've finally got something right. :-)