swings and roundabouts

wow.

my life feels like a film right now. i can't wait for it to finish so that i can move on and do something far more normal and safe.

we got the call at school. we got ofsted in.

oh

my

god

never in the history of my life have i lost my appetite. never. not even when i got divorced.

i didn't eat for 3 days and i slept for 4 hours over the course of 72 hours. to say i've been a wreck was an understatement.

i had text my family and told them that i loved them and that they shouldn't ring unless someone was dying because it was all a little too frantic here.

as i waved the chief inspector away on friday afternoon, i breathed a sigh of relief.

then the phone rang.

my sister called. my dad had a call back about his mri.

they've found a growth on his neck.

my mom, being my mom, is not dealing particularly well with this news and has put herself to bed, threatening to hurt herself. my sisters are both crying non-stop and my brother is out partying and trying not to think about it.

that leaves my poor pops on his own watching tv.

i'm 350 miles away but that doesn't mean i won't drive up there. they don't want me yet, i'm better with appointments and operations because i ask questions and take notes.

this is killing me.

my appetite has also returned and then some.

fetch me my reading spectacles

it's been a strange kind of day. there seems to have been some secret and almost invisble-to-the-naked-eye corner turning.

i've been inspired.

i want to sew again. i want dancing lessons. i want to try out for american idol and make out with steven tyler.

there is a very slim chance that any of those things will happen, given that my sewing skills are limited, i can only sidestep, i can't sing (nor do i live in america) and steven tyler will be too busy getting it on with the younger chicks.

none of that matters. it COULD happen.

i can make anything happen.

wow. watch out london. incoooooooommmmmmmiiiiiiiinnnnnnngggggg!

fat is the new black

so tonight i had rather an embarrassing moment. went off to a quiz night held at work. didn't want to go but the numbers were looking low and it was a fundraiser for us so i felt obliged. i persuaded people, used emotional blackmail and finally cobbled a team together. we were never going to win but we were at least going to have a good time.

getting ready, i decided to have a little fun. i put away the muppets t-shirt and hoody i had planned to wear and instead went for something a bit more sexy, more revealing and, of course, black. i added a touch of slap and dug out my schmexy black boots...

yum

once there, we were merrily banding our way through a whole host of wrong answers when the head of the committee told me that as i would be receiving the cash raised from the evening on behalf of our establishment, i was required to make a speech at the end.

whowhatnow?

from that point on, i was in agony. what would everyone think of my clothes? would they talk about my weight? would i have to squeeze past anyone to get to the stage? how could they take me seriously when i'm such a fattie? i had the sweats, my stomach was turning, my head was spinning. all because people would be looking at me. arses. the remaining team members jollied through the rest of the quiz oblivious to my inner turmoil.

then *fanfare* the time came. i took my place. as usual, i started with a self-depreciating joke and went on from there once they were all laughing...at me.

it was fairly painless, i must admit, but i felt sick. my friend leaned over and grabbed my hand, looked me in the eye and said "they love you. everyone loves you. you are respected here and the only person that thinks you're horrible, fat and not worthy is you. and possibly that ugly guy in the corner with the wonky eye." i laughed and we left without a prize but thankful we weren't last.

it got me to thinking about this stupid diet. i've put more weight on since i started it than i have lost. i'm an emotional eater but i eat because i hate myself for being fat and ugly. i hate myself for presenting my awfulness in such a way that people feel it's ok to comment on. i wouldn't go up to someone and say "hey joe, how's your arse off for lovebites?" or "ooh mary, that spot looks really painful. you should try having a wash." why then is it ok for people to tell me that i'd have a boyfriend/husband/more friends/baby if i just lost the weight?

the answer is simple.

it's not.

i have been an enabler.

i have made it ok for people to say things like that to me because i've expected it and, even worse, i've always got the first kick in.

i'm an idiot.

i need to love myself.

question is, how does one go about such frivolity?

answers on a postcard or, you know, write them on here. duh.