Inspiration
A friend of mine dropped off a bunch of magazines that she had finished reading. We recycle magazines – eventually they will end up at YOUR GP – but only when all the fashion advice is really redundant, the gardening tips are for the wrong season, the hairstyles are disgusting and the sexperts are old news. The usual suspects were present: “Cleo”, “Cosmopolitan”, “Elle” et al. Every time I had a break this weekend (to be assured of 5 minutes uninterrupted reading time is quite a feat) I dived, nose first, into the nearest copy to read about how everyone else is doing it better.
People out there are having unbelievable sex (several times a week, if not several times a day – my bum is a biscuit!), they are great parents, successful entrepreneurs, accomplished sports people, over-achievers and ball-breakers. You put down one of those magazines thinking you have to start that diet, and get that exercise and teach the kids from home and run a successful business and still find the time to make your husband feel like a god. AND prepare home-made chilli jam and plant an organic vegetable garden and make homeopathic remedies from scratch from the garden. If I had a super power, that would be it; all things to all people.
Needless to say yesterday morning I did the 5 recommended stretches for want of something better to do. Stretches mind you, nothing as ambitious as the Comrades to start off with, it’s not like I was pushing my luck. I could hardly brush my teeth today. I feel like a dressed chicken, about to go into the roasting tray – you know how you sometimes hold them up by their wings (or is that just me?) and the skin looks all stretched and tight and white (brownish if they are Argentinean) – that’s what I feel like.
Anyway, needless to say, when the alarm clock went off at 5 this morning to remind me to do my stretches – I gave it the finger, from the warmth and comfort of my winter feather duvet.