So, I wrote that post last night, feeling optimistic. I felt quite motivated once I’d written it, and I sorted out all the laundry which has overwhelmed me this week. I had a horrible bug through the week, so it had fallen by the wayside even more than usual.
After I’d sorted it all out, I washed all the dishes so there was no horrible mess to wake up to, and I made a curry and put it in the slow cooker so there was something for my husband to eat when he got in from his shift. Feeling goooooood.
Then I made myself two pittas with cheese. WTF? I wasn’t even hungry. They were horrible, but I ate them anyway (nobody likes to see waste … right?). Then I felt rubbish again.
The big question is why? I wasn’t hungry. I was quite happy with myself, having achieved a few chores. They made me feel lethargic and horrible, and they didn’t even taste good. This is not taking care of my body. This is abusing it. Like someone who takes drugs abuses their body, but can’t stop, it is a bit like that I guess.
Anyway, that was yesterday.