Pop, Fizz, Glug, Glug….Crash!

wine

Yep, that was me falling off the wagon in spectacular style.  Coming into my third Friday night sober with 15 days under my belt, the wheels came off.

We’ll just have a quick drink before dinner, like responsible adults.  Yeah, right, we all know how that ended don’t we?

I don’t remember going to bed.  I do know that three bottles were involved; the evidence was there for all to see the next morning.

Speaking of morning, that wasn’t pretty.  We were looking after the neighbours animals and the dogs are inside overnight and must be let out early (6.00 am early!) so they don’t make a mess IYKWIM.

So, feeling dreadful, I dragged my sorry, bloated arse out of bed pulled on my walking gear (if I had to get up, I may as well exercise) and set off to see if I couldn’t walk off the stupid.  It was lovely day in wine country, kangaroos, kookaburras, the odd lorikeet, hot air balloons floated serenely through the dawn sky.  I appreciated NONE of it as I just tried to keep putting one foot in front of the other.  Talk about enjoying life, not!

I managed my usual 8km and decided that bacon and eggs would sort me out.  Crazy Cat Boy had made it from snoring in bed when I left to sitting vacantly on the lounge watching TV.  “I don’t drink any more” he announced to me as I flopped down beside him.   “Yep, me neither” I replied.  Mind you, we’ve both said this before, numerous times.   Talk about slow learners.

Breakfast was duly consumed.  I lasted until around 10 am and then went back to bed.  I thought a lay down with a book would help, nope.  In my hungover state the poison in my body meant that trying to focus on words actually made me feel nauseous.  Great.  I’ve done so much damage to myself with one decision that I’ve lost the ability to read.  God help me if there was an emergency and I had to drive – well, I couldn’t anyway; I’d be over the limit still by my calculations.

Three days later my one consolation is that while I threw away 15 days of feeling on top of the world I know that I must have been doing something right if my body* reacted that acutely to something that only a few weeks ago it simply would have shrugged its shoulders at and gotten on with the day.  I’m lucky; I’ve clearly come to my senses in time that my body will heal itself relatively quickly.

So, if you are still thinking about stopping/cutting back, learn from my mistakes and give it a red hot go, you won’t regret it.

* Physically my hair felt like straw, my face was blotch and yuck. Mentally I’ve been sad and kind of listless, only just starting to feel happy again now on day three.

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Do I Have A Problem?

wine-glassI’ve been worried about this for a while…

Alcoholism runs deep on both sides of my family.  A maternal aunt spent most of her adult life in an assisted living facility due to brain damage from alcohol and dad is a functioning alcoholic.

I’ve always known that I had the capacity to develop a serious problem with alcohol.  I develop patterns and habits quickly. This is great when it comes to work, I’m one of those people who employers talk about when they ask for someone who can “hit the ground running”, however it also means that sharing a couple of bottles of wine a night with Crazy Cat Boy also becomes a pattern fast.

It scares me that I can easily drink a bottle of wine and not feel any real ill effects the next day.  That isn’t normal drinking, is it?  No, don’t bother answering that, it isn’t, I know that.

Am I a drunk? I don’t drink every night, but when I do I get drunk and I’ve started falling asleep in front of the TV (or is that passing out?), I don’t drink on my own, but I’ve got a build in drinking buddy in CCB, I don’t fall down drunk in public, I don’t skip work due to hangovers, but I am less productive and tend to waste time on those days.

Today’s post is inspired by the fact that I knew I had a big day, one where I need to be creative and also hold my own with my boss on a new product that we disagree on. So the sensible course of action would have been to have one glass with the neighbour when she brought over a thank you bottle and then gone to be early.  Did that happen, hell no.  She went home; we finished the bottle and then went and got another!  As a result of that I had a bad sleep and have a mild hangover on top of bad hay fever and I’m feeling crap.

So, should I quit all together?  I know what when I don’t drink I’m calmer, more focused and I look better.  I’m also scared that I’m more concerned about what wine is doing to my hair and skin than my liver and brain, seriously what kind of mess up thinking is that?

Can I quit? That might be the even scarier question.

The Harsh Truth Of Pencil Skirts

pencil skirt.jpgIt’s been a while, but I’m back baby!

Work and life have been busy and I’ve been stuck in a creative rut that there was no need to subject you to!

The work situation is still up in the air due to our Game of Thrones situation – the Iron Throne is still vacant.  The court rumour mill has it while the seat of power is attractive the gold, or lack thereof is not enough to temp an heir into the citadel.

I’m riding it out and doing as much contingency planning as I can.  I like my job but I need to accept that nothing will change in the short term.  So, I’m putting on my big girl panties, sucking it up and getting over it.

I’ve put myself on the wagon wine wise to try and get fit – ok, lose some weight, my new undies don’t fit and I had delusions of grandeur that I could wear a white pencil skirt (to go with my rashly purchased fabulous jacket that matches NOTHING I own).  Until I tried it on that is.  Why is it that white only serves to highlight cellulite? I had a long and depressing talk with myself in the change rooms at Cue a couple of weeks ago while trying to convince myself that with a bit of spanks action I could get away with the sleek white look.  Fortunately for my bank balance the realist in me won, so I don’t have yet another expensive item in my wardrobe that I can’t wear.

Another reason for the temporary wine wagon is that I’ve been reading Sober Mummy’s blog (it’s fabulous, check it out) and some other blogs in the sober sphere and thought that it would be good for me to take a break.  While I don’t drink every day, when I do I drink way more than I should.  I don’t like the path that this habit could take me down so I’m taking action.

So that’s it for me for today.  I’ll be back soon I promise!

Help, My Thighs Have “Hail Damage”!

celulite

I stand before you (well, sit on my tubby arse before you) a 60 odd kg, cellulite sprinkled, pasty white, spotty armed Crazy Cat Lady who feels let down by her mirror.  How did this happen and how can I reverse it in three weeks?

Here is my day of woe began…

I’m working out of a client’s office today so this morning instead of just brushing my hair and pulling on jeans and a tee, I slapped on some makeup and slipped on a new dress, well, that was the plan.

The dress, purchased only 12 months ago does not fit properly.  Not only did it not “slip” as advertised, it actually “dragged” over the hip area and a very visible panty and waist line appeared where it shouldn’t have!

How did this happen (the can of Coke on my desk as I type might be a small give away)?  I thought I was still pretty fit: so I consulted the friendly mirror, the one in the ensuite, not the harsh reality mirror that lives in the main bathroom.

Gulp! The mirror has had a personality change and is throwing up some unwelcome sights under the glare of the double heat lamp.

Not only do my eyebrows need a decent pluck, but there are vast expanses of very white, very “hail damaged” thighs and buttocks that are a lot more wobbly than I’d like to admit.   Not only that, but my arms are spotty and have weird multiple tan lines from different length sleaves and bingo wings!  Bloody Nora!

However that’s not the biggest problem. In three weeks I’m catching up with friends that I haven’t seen since high school  (navigating the whole Facebook friend gauntlet reconnecting with them is a whole other post)and I want to look hot damn it!

So, I’m assessing my options:

  1. Take legal action against the designer of said “slip dress” for wrongful advertising
  2. Surgery – excessive?  Probably, but let’s not rule anything out
  3. Expensive “smoothing” creams and gels – see how desperate I’m becoming, I’m starting to want to believe the hype!
  4. Convert to any religion that needs me to cover head to toe loose clothes – extreme, maybe, but as a short term solution option, I’m game
  5. Spanks – ‘nuff said!
  6. More green stuff, less coke – probably a solid option for my overall health, but I loves me my coke 😉
  7. Less wine – see “more green” above!  LOL
  8. More moving – again see boring health stuff above
  9. Find the Kettle bell – by hook or by crook I’ll deflab these arms.

I know what you are thinking, I really only have one solid option, fake my own death, but I’d really like to catch up with them all so perhaps I’ll try the “health” option…. stay tuned dear reader, I’ll post updates on my painful progress!

So They Put Your Boob In a Vice….

surprised faceOk, so the technical term is “plates”, and I’m sure there is a fancy medical term that they use when we civilians aren’t around. Yep, that’s right I had a mammogram and I’ve lived to tell the tale!

I’m one of the many who have a higher chance of breast cancer, yay, lucky me. However, since I moved to wine country a few years ago and am over 40, I’m also one of the lucky few who qualify for free mammograms every couple of years. Yep, you heard it here first folks, every two years I get my breasts squished for free!

So every couple of years I trot off to the local breast screen clinic and make small talk with a medical professional who is usually a woman older than me while topless and trying not to move while less than sexy shots are taken of my boobs.   I don’t envy this poor woman’s job either, “Try and stay still and don’t breathe dear”, is usually what I hear while the technician tries valiantly to get enough of my less than generous assets into the machine so she can do the scan. Personally I think I’m probably having more armpit and side boob fat scanned than actual breast. LOL, what ya gunna do, you work with what you have!

For anyone who hasn’t had one and is wondering what to expect, don’t hold off, it’s surprisingly fast and easy. I didn’t feel any pain at all; very firm pressure, but no pain. Sure, the resulting photos aren’t the sexy glamour shots that you’d post to Instagram if you were Kim Kardashian, but for 15 minutes of your Saturday morning and some small talk, I’d recommend you take advantage of the amazing service we are lucky enough to have access to for free in Australia… it might just save your life.

PS: If you are 40 and over living in rural Australia you qualify for earlier screening. Ask your doctor.