Crash! Boom! Bang!

Can't believe it's Monday again.  Can't a girl get a break?!  All I want is just one day off, just one, on my own, to get my little head straight, to get some things done that need doing and to just have a few hours of silence.  God.  Sounds like heaven.  It's all too much.  I need everything to stop for a while so my head stops spinning.  I have a feeling it won't happen until at least Easter, though.  Even then, I have my doubts! 

Saturday was lovely.  I haven't seen my niece and nephews (collectively still termed 'the kids' despite the fact they're all grown up and only a few years younger than I am) all year.  Which is partly due to general bad auntie-dom, but also due to the fact Southport is a hell of a place to navigate into and out of on public transport - and the fact my niece now lives in Bristol.  Which is quite a walk.  Still, getting to spend time with any of them is on my favourite things to do in the whole world list - so spending time with all three of them at once made me ridiculously happy.  It's my Mum and Dad's 50th anniversary at the end of March and the celebrations began on Saturday.   Well.  Technically I think they began last Wednesday when Mum invited some of my cousins over, but this was the first actual party for them, and there will be more celebrations as the month progresses.  I mean, why not?  If you're going to celebrate something so monumental, do it properly!! 

I got really upset yesterday.  I have never known an overweight person get heckled more than I do while minding their own business walking down the street.  Honestly.  It's ridiculous.  I must be some sort of monster.  People must visibly recoil in horror when they look at me and get a little bit sick in their mouths at the sight of the putrid mass that is me.  Honestly.  I was just walking to my pal's house, feeling quite proud of myself for not being knackered at the half-way point, when I saw three kids on the pavement a bit further up the road.  I hate children (I say 'children', they were probably about 17, however, evidently still not old enough to have learned any people skills), as you know, so I thought rather than have to share the same airspace as them, I'd just cross the road.  As I did, this happened:

BOY 1:  Bloody hell, you're fat, aren't you?
ME: [thinking] Ignore him, ignore him, he may be talking to... someone else... even if you are the only other person on the street!
BOY 1:  Erm, excuse me, didn't you hear me?
ME:  [thinking]  Holy hell!  Vile people are getting braver!  I wish I knew more people on this road so I could just call on them and hide till they went away!
BOY 2:  I'm sorry, were you talking to me, I thought you were talking to the fat person who just crossed the road!
ME: [thinking]  If only there was a convenient tall building I could throw myself off at this juncture - it'd be over quickly, I must have one hell of a gravitational pull!!

I mean - goodness only knows what they'd've said if they'd seen me walking down the street at the beginning of January, they'd've probably had a heart attack - as between all three of them they probably only have one heart. 

I know.  I know what you're all saying.  They're idiots - and this is true.  They were only showing off in front of their friends - and this is true too, because one of them was a girl.  I am quite aware that their hostility and attempts to humiliate me in public was merely due to the fact that they likely have to compensate for inadequate-sized, ineffectual genetalia.  And I do derive a smug sense of satisfaction that, if they ever read this blog entry, they wouldn't have a clue what the last sentence meant.  But then you can't help that little voice in the back of your head saying, "They're only saying what everyone else is thinking because they don't know you so they're not worried about offending you."  You'd think, the more it happened, the less it'd hurt, but to be honest, it doesn't hurt any less - if anything, especially after all the hard work I've put in over the last nine weeks, it hurts more.

I'm feeling very wobbly at the moment, I think that's what I'm saying.  I keep having dreams about devouring the contents of a sweet shop and I wake up feeling really bloated and horrible, even though I know I haven't really eaten anything.  I felt a bit of a failure on Thursday night and managed to talk myself round by Friday - but now I feel as though perhaps my initial self-loathing was possibly warranted.  The thing is, I'm really doing my best and I feel like it isn't good enough but I've no idea what else I can possibly do to make it better.  I know I'm a bit grumpy, but by and large I like to think I'm quite a nice person - I definitely wouldn't go out of my way to upset anyone, and I don't understand why complete strangers feel the need to inform me of how large I am when I am clearly already painfully aware of the fact.  Really.  Stop it.  It's fine.  I know.  I'm doing something about it.  It isn't a miracle cure, it's a long, hard slog - so it'll take time, but I'm doing it.  Just... back off and stop heckling me!  I wouldn't mind but they're not even funny like Stadler and Waldorf from The Muppet Show!!

So, all in all, I'm feeling far too Mondayish for my own good today.  Still.  There's only seven hours until I'm on the train on my way home.  Sorry.  Six hours and fifty nine minutes...

Join me again on Wednesday.  The good thing about that will be the fact that as I'm already pretty much at rock bottom today, I can't hit a midweek slump by Wednesday - so with any luck I'll be feeling far more cheerful and positive about everything.  Well.  Perhaps!!