Hope Springs

I'm feeling particularly good today. The sun is shining, trees are budding, and I after weeks of feeling like I am continually running just to stay three steps behind, I feel like I'm only one or two steps behind. Always look on the bright side, huh?

Last week I put two work projects behind me. This week I have two more deadlines coming up, but once I get through those I'll have a chance to get back to the other 147 (or how ever many there are). One thing at a time. When I have so much to do, I try to focus on one thing at a time. Finish that one, and move on to the next one. 

At home, I did some serious cleaning over the weekend, which although it's not fun, it always makes me feel better. We also did some gardening - which is more fun. We also had a 'stay-in' date which was the best part of all. And there is still time today to fill with something enjoyable. I'm sure I can think of something. 

Shouldn't It Be Nice?

Most of the time I'm a big fan of 'effort'. Success means a whole lot more to me when I have to work at it and I'm not all that impressed by achievements that come easily. 

Except, apparently, when it comes to what I am trying to achieve with my eating.

 I don't mean that I think eating should be 'work'- in fact I believe just the opposite. My goal is that eating should be as natural for the adult me as it was for the child me. Before it became about weights and measures, morality and guilt. Numbers and nutrients. 

It's difficult to do in a world where I am constantly bombarded by messages full of 'shoulds' - how much I should or should not eat. What foods I should swap with other, more acceptable foods. Acceptable, of course, varying depending on who is offering the advice. How much guilt I should feel. Whether I should rate myself as 'good' or 'bad' depending on what I ate or didn't eat, how many hours I sat, or stood or walked, or whether that even counts if I don't do 'Insanity' or some other 'workout'. 

Difficult, but not impossible. Maybe I just need to put in a little effort.