Wednesday, July 29, 2015
I hate the Creep.
The Creep is sneaky and fast.
The Creep makes me feel awful and it makes me feel sad.
He attacks my self esteem and disrupts my days.
The Creep is boredom with a capital B.
The Creep visits me more often as the years roll on.
This time all was going so well. The Creep was under control.
Then I injured my back and found I couldn't do much at all for quite a few months, it's been a slow process to get moving slowly and I still need to be really careful with what I do.
Then I grew an egg and while the nerves and stress do keep the Creep at bay a little, comfort was found in great supply with lovely treats. Because life is too short not to indulge. And Indulge I did.
Then Mr H turned 40 and life MUST be celebrated, or what's the point of anything?
This was all followed by The Creep's biggest weapon, Winter.
With Winter the slow cooker comes out, the lovely casseroles and pies and lasagna and snuggling inside. Walks are shorter and fewer and getting out to pilates classes takes major effort. You turn around, look in the mirror and The Creep is out of control.
You put out your work clothes to be all organised in the morning, yet when the morning comes along, you can't even do up the zip on the work wear you had last winter. Frantically you grab another pair of old favourites and even those won't do up.
You have to admit to yourself, in a very little whisper, that The Creep is winning.
Two weeks post surgery recovery is like a gift to The Creep. But we all know evil prospers when good people do nothing, so I guess it's time to be a good person.