A 2-post collection

Oh me Feet

The problem with the daily grind [or at least, my version of it] is that once my shoes are on, I don't take them off. Which means that, by the time I have the opportunity to treat my feet, I lack the energy to do so.

And I'm grumpy when my feet hurt.

Which makes shopping for anything a trial for Beloved because I whinge a lot. Even when I don't mean to whinge, I whinge. And whingeing drains Beloved like a Bad Air Day drains me.

So I have forced upon myself a new routine. Which includes some pre-emptive feet-treating for half an hour each morning. I do have a nifty little electrolysis foot massager thing [which I usually use for an entire hour] and it has worked miracles for me in the past.

Self-care doesn't occur naturally to me. I tend to seek a comfort level and just... veg... there. Very bad for me. I know. And possibly why I have bad teeth, bad wrists, bad feet, bad knees and a bad back.

And it's probably an anxiety/depression/ASD thing as well. Because psych issues can do things to us when we're unaware. But my excuse is not an excuse to keep neglecting myself. I must be aware of my inner temptations and battle them whenever I can.

And I must also learn how to ask for help.

Beloved and I spend a majority of our days in different time zones [I routinely wake up at Fuckoff in the morning and Beloved can sleep until noon when they're able] so help from that angle may take some serious scheduling. My little darlings are no help, either. They're flat out looking after themselves. I spend most of my spoons chasing them into doing what they should have done half an hour ago.

The neighbours... don't want to know me.

And I can't hire someone just to chase me into looking after my fool self. Can't afford it for one. And two - what the hell job title would that even be. Benevolent Author Bully? Get A Life Coach?

Meh. The point is moot. I can't afford to pay someone like that for their time. Maybe when I'm rich.

But on the plus side, I finally have a decent pair of fucking shorts. The key is to look in the right place.

Getting better slowly.

My weight went up yesterday. Not because of extra eating now that I’m on my feet [7th Mar] but because of the extra moving I’ve been doing.

I put on some muscle mass.

Muscle weighs more than fat, so I’d rather have it.

My fat-weight’s been going down, too, according to hubby’s technoscales. And I have some nice looking graphs to show for it.

Today, I’m getting some laundry done

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