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It's been an up-and-down kind of day. J went to work, without too much OCD checking, but was very tired and down when he came home, and later in the evening had a slight strop over doing his homework for his new therapist. He's only seen her twice, and she does give him a lot to do outwith the sessions. There's a table analysing his negative thoughts, and a sort of diary of what he's done each day (including the time spent doing OCD checking), and an exercise where you try not to think of a pink rabbit. And some more stuff, but I can't remember the details.In a way this is good, because we, rather than the taxpayer, are paying for the sessions, and we want the therapist to get the information she needs quickly, so they can make the best use of the sessions. On the other hand, I can see...

The answer to this question, short version:I had a lot of work to do for my course, and then I collapsed in a heap for a while.Actually, I wasn't totally collapsed. I seem to have done a few things in the past month or so:* I knitted a pair of fingerless gloves* My friend C came to stay for a few days and we visited castles* I learned to make pastry from scratch (it's easy: what was I afraid of?)* I bathed the guinea pigs on three occasions (they had a skin problem, poor little crumbs)* I found a pair of comfy shoes I can wear with skirts* I read a lot of books* I ate tomatoes and peas that I grew myself* I planted a lot of bulbs* I watched several episodes of Firefly, and - only three months late - the series finale of Doctor Who* I had my 29th birthdayWhat's that you say? None of these...

My new job starts in two weeks exactly (yes, on a Tuesday). I have a feeling rather like being on hold on the telephone: I'm waiting impatiently for something to happen, and yet fear that when it does happen, I will be slightly startled by it because I'll have stopped paying attention and gone off into a dream...As regards the feet: again, waiting. I can't "go get" the orthotic inserts because (according to my brother, who is a medical student) it will probably be a few months before I have an appointment to get my feet looked at. Everyone is supposed to be "dealt with" within 18 weeks on the NHS, but apparently that might just mean that I get a letter telling me when the appointment is. (As you can tell, I've never had to see a specialist about anything, or not for the past 15 years or...

I didn't weigh myself last Monday because I was in the grip of the crimson tide and feeling extremely terrible, and also bloated, so I was pretty sure the scales weren't going to say anything useful. And the in-laws were here on a visit, and we went out to dinner and then they came to dinner twice, and I didn't take much exercise because of feeling terrible, and, you know, not in the mood. And then I made some mini lemon bundt cakes out of How to Be a Domestic Goddess, because we both needed cheering up (see below). Very low-GI, I'm sure. No, they didn't have ground flaxseed in them or any other healthy modifications (if anyone knows where you can get ground flaxseed that costs less than several times its weight in gold, could they let me know?) They were nice, though.The previous number...

A couple of days ago, I was going to write a very moany post about how miserable I was feeling, but I didn't because I was feeling too miserable. I am now feeling better.I don't know why, really, because the same circumstances still hold:*I didn't get that job (unless a miracle occurs);*I've put applications in for others, but I suspect I'm not going to get them, because I don't really have enough experience;*my foot still hurts (see below);*J is still off work, for complex reasons involving getting clearance to go back from his doctor and various official people at his work;*I feel like I've spent too much money on things to cheer myself up recently;*there are a whole lot of books I'd like to buy, and things I'd like to do to the house, but I feel I've spent too much money recently...But...

I have no idea whether any guys read this dubious excuse for a blog, but - dear reader, if you're male, you have permission not to read this entry.The older I get, the more I become aware of... my Cycle.No, not the kind with two wheels. (I am hoping to acquire a new one of those soon, since my current one is fifteen years old and extremely heavy. But I haven't got around to it yet.)The one I mean, of course, is the kind that poleaxes you once a month, if you're female. Mine's been doing that to me for about the last seventeen years, although it seems longer. Much longer. This is genetic; there's nothing much to be done about it (except take NSAIDs and keep warm) and I'm used to dealing with it.Lately, though, the Cycle has taken to making me suffer before the main event as well.I've...

I had a busy time in London. We got off the train at King's Cross and then caught a bus to South Kensington and went to the Science Museum and then got a tube to Islington and went to our friend Dan's 30th birthday party and then got a taxi to Vauxhall and spent the night with Tom and then got a tube and a train to Hertford to have lunch with Dave, Becca and Freddie and then got the train back and another tube to Balham where we met Jon and Jonny in a pub and then got a train to Mortlake with Jonny to spend the night and then got a train and a bus and a tube to King's Cross and got on the train to come home.So we basically spent the entire trip whizzing from north to south London and back again. We were a little exhausted by Sunday. But it was lovely to see everybody.On Monday, running...

So, after that very good start, my weight did nothing in any direction this week, and nor did my bodyfat percentage points. Humph. Well, OK, maintaining is better than gaining.I am very good at maintaining, actually. My metabolism seems to be the kind that doesn't really care much what I do, because I neither gain nor lose weight very easily. Which probably means that I get away with nutritional negligence when I shouldn't.Actually, last week was OK, food-wise, although Sunday included some chocolate which I rather regretted afterwards. But, I don't know... I don't think I was being as mindful as I need to be. No major dietary crimes, but I'd lost concentration a bit.I've been trying not to eat bread, on two grounds: firstly, I don't seem to digest it very well (I get indigestion if I eat...

Good: J went to work for some of last week, and seems to be feeling better.Bad: But that’s still only four days he’s been feeling better. Fingers crossed.Good: We are going away for a short break for a few days later this week.Bad: I feel fat. The holiday will involve wearing a swimsuit.Good: I have decided to buy a bathroom scale, so that if I am actually getting fatter, I can find out and take decisive action (though not before I go on holiday).Bad: I have not actually bought one, or taken any action other than looking at pictures online and saying to J, “Look! The ones with body fat monitors aren’t that expensive.” J (if he has a fault, it’s a certain unwillingness to spend money) makes non-committal noises.Good: I’ve nearly made up my mind that I’m going to do this...

I promised myself that when I got paid from my new(ish) job, I'd buy myself some weights. Of all the things I can't do since the gym became impractical, I miss weights the most. I've tried to keep myself flexible by doing the motions unweighted (especially the squats, since it took so long to get any depth) but it's not the same.My brother bought some lovely shiny dumbbells with removable plates a few months ago, which seemed just the sort of thing.So on Saturday I duly went up town to try to get some. Could I find any? No. I think I was looking in the wrong shops. Still, I got some exercise jogging along Princes Street in an attempt to go to as many shops as possible in the time I had.I still seem to be able to run without wanting to die, which is lucky, since I haven't been running...