I Feel It In My Fingers.

It’s almost here. 

I can feel it in my bones. I can feel it in my waters. 

There are mere hours to go until the festive floodgates open and I will no longer shout “NO IT IS TOO EARLY STOP THAT” at friends and colleagues who dare to let the tiniest hint of a Christmas song past their lips.

Plus this year, I have an awesome advent calendar that won’t make me fat, but will make our house smell amazing every single day. (No, it’s not a gin one, with tiny bottles that I’ll be sprinkling all over the place, it’s a Yankee Candle one, and I’m very excited.)

I’m probably more excited about the change from today to tomorrow than I am from Christmas Eve to Christmas Day. Hurry up, Midnight.


Keeping Up With The Jones’.

We are so very nearly done with Jessica Jones on Netflix. This is what wet and miserable Sundays were made for. 


A C-Word Party.

Because it isn’t yet December the first, I can’t tell you what kind of celebration I went to this evening with some of my work colleagues. 

Just know that there were paper hats and songs played that I refused to sing along to as it’s just too early. 

Today was a really good day at work, where I felt like I had really made some actual progress within the pharmacy as I was doing things without needing to ask for help or assurance that I was doing it right. I like those kinds of days because they make me realise that I can do this job, and I won’t leave the store every day feeling like I’m drowning or incapable of doing what is expected of me. Some days, sure. But not all the time. 

I also think I’ve finally developed a tolerance and taste for white wine, but I might revise that thought when I have to get up early tomorrow morning. 


Weighed And Measured.

We survived a very busy Black Friday. I mean, yes, I now have a busy weekend to cope with as well, but I’m kind of prepared now. 

What I was slightly less prepared for was my first Personal Trainer meeting, where I got weighed and measured more intensely than I have ever been before. I’m almost surprised she didn’t take some calipers to my belly. In good news, my visceral fat is sitting at a very low percentage. In less good news, my current metabolic age is 39. THIRTY NINE. Almost twice my actual age (ish). I know I’m never going to get the metabolic age of a 12 year old, but I can at least try to get it closer to my actual age. Now I know how people felt when that Nintendo brain training game that was all the rage in the early 2000’s told my school friends their brain age lay somewhere in the 60’s.

But now I’ve got some tangible goals to work towards once my training plan is written, with actual numbers that I can measure so I know I’m on the right track. Yes, it’s probably (definitely) a foolish decision to do this all at a time of year famous for gluttony but if I can do it now and stick to it, I can start 2016 in an incredibly good place.


Fighty Friday.

Tomorrow is going to be a challenge from start to end, what with it being Black Friday and my first session with my personal trainer after work. At this rate, I’m going to have to sneak a nap in during lunch in order to make it through. As long as nobody mentions the inevitable crease lines across my face, everything will be fine. Probably. 


When I Get Older.

When I am older and exceptionally rich, I shall have a personal hairdresser who is available at any time to come and sort my fringe out, because it’s been about two weeks since it was last trimmed and it already looks an absolute state.

I shall also have someone who can organise all my holidays and trips away so that all of the stress and worry is alleviated and I can literally just get on a train and have a lovely time without freaking out that I’ve screwed up booking a room in a hotel four hours away from where I need to be.

If you hadn’t guessed, I’m currently trying to organise some time away, and it’s making my head hurt quite a lot. And this is a weekend trip within the UK. God knows what happens when I start looking elsewhere in the world…


Over The Shoulder Boulder Holders.

Sorry everyone.

Did I miss the memo where underwear prices were hiked up to a ridiculous rate? Granted, I probably haven’t bought a new bra in about 5 years (I don’t class emergency bras from Primark that are purchased because an underwire is worming its way into my rib cage as real bras.) but when you’re dropping a fairly hefty amount of money on clothing that very few people are going to see, you cannot help but wince.

Also, it turns out that getting measured for a bra is no less awkward at 24 than it was when I was 14. Small talk about my Fitbit did not make being in a small room with my shirt off with a strange, albeit extremely lovely and professional woman any less awkward.

My tits do look magnificent now though.


Strolling On A Sunny Morning.

As starts to a week go, today was pretty good, to be honest.

I got to spend a couple of hours with my chap before having to go to walk, which is always nice, particularly the bit where he told me he was going to punch a seagull that would not shut up. I really appreciated the sentiment, particularly as I woke up at 4am thanks to the squawking going on outside his window.

I didn’t even have a whinge when I had to pop up to the big Boots to get a misdelivered parcel of ours because even though it was cold, it was sunny and dry, which is the second best type of weather at this time of year (only snow that settles beats it) so getting wrapped up in my gloves, scarf and hat with a ludicrous bobble wasn’t bad at all.

Because we had quite a lot of staff in today, I spent most of my afternoon sat in the dispensary reading through and signing off my SOPs, and sharing some incredibly filthy jokes and probably laughing the most I have since taking the job.

Lovely stuff indeed.


We’re Expecting!

I’m absolutely thrilled to announce that Andy and I are expecting. 

Food babies. 

Food babies and nothing more, my God, what were you thinking I meant?

Since coming over to his this morning, we’ve pretty much done nothing but eat and watch Jessica Jones on Netflix.

Lunch was at HubBox, the new burger place in town, and the food was honestly some of the best I’ve had in recent years. And that is coming from me, somebody that likes to eat.  

I couldn’t even finish all the fries, it was that big a portion. Plus the Coke came in glass bottles, which is the only way it should be served.

Then it was back to the flat to let that all digest until we decided it was time for a twenty minute break from Netflix to go and pick up some food from the Chinese up the road.

If I can get into my uniform tomorrow, it’s going to be an absolute miracle. 


Happy Body, Happy Mind, Happy Heart, Happy Girl.

Oh, guys. I’ve had just about the loveliest day. And that’s even with having to haul myself out of bed at 5:13 to go and sort the alarm at work out.

That early start meant I started a whole 45 minutes later than usual (which actually equated to an extra hour and a half in bed, thanks to my usual ludicrous time keeping) and overall shortened my day.

A day in work that was spent mostly on Healthcare and in the Dispensary, where I’m finally starting to find my feet. I’m panicking much less these days, and think I have finally reached a point in my life where I have accepted that there is no shame in asking for help. I’ve had problems with that since primary school, so I’m glad that at the age of 24 I can take a small knock to my pride for the sake of getting everything right. Maybe ask me in a few months when I’m knee deep in revision for a test on cough and cold medication though, I might be panicking a bit more then.

After work I had planned to go straight to the gym, but then my chap happened to call and ask if I wanted to go for a coffee. Yes. Obviously. Don’t be ridiculous, why would I say no? So we went and sat in Costa for about an hour and a half, which was very nice indeed.

But because I am a FUCKING CHAMPION, after we’d said our farewells I then went and officially joined the Saturday Night Gym Loser club by did an hour of working out, before I realised it was 8:30pm on a Saturday night and I was in the gym and that this is what my life is now. Luckily, the results so far have been pretty noticeable, and it’s doing wonders for helping my find to stay clear and focused when needs be. Yay gyms.

And now I get to go to bed, safe in the knowledge that I get to spend all of tomorrow with my chap, even if it does mean waking up at stupid o’clock on my day off to go and have breakfast together. Because *that* is what love is.