Under the Duvet

18th May

So today was the day I planned to get my life in order. Last nights alcohol consumption  made me optimistic that getting ones life in order can be done by simply writing a list. In my case this is either not true, or I am not ready to face the future.

First of all I have a confession - last nights two large glasses turned into two bottles. Ummm yep I drank two bottles of wine, by myself, alone in my apartment, whilst perving on hot famous men on the Web. Pretty sad really. It was going great until the last glass - that one kind of tipped me over the edge. So at 3am, in a blubbering mess, I crawled sideways into bed and passed out.

Then my plan to wake up, face the world head on and start sorting myself out didn't quite go as expected. It could be the hangover, or my broken soul, or the fact that my bed is super comfy but today I haven't managed to make it out from under my duvet. Other than a super quick toilet dash (which for a split second I considered weeing just exactly where I was) I have been officially been hiding under the duvet for a grand total of 20 hours.

I feel gross, sweaty, tired (how can I still be tired???), sad, lonely and a tiny bit pathetic. I have an uncontrollable urge to call my mother, I know it will not help, in fact it will probably make things worse. She has every good intention in the world, but when she opens her mouth she has a knack for saying the exact things you do not want to hear. Example.... Last year I spent months training for a triathlon. I'd never competed in a race before and I had only recently learned to swim. I was excited and saw this as the opportunity to feel like I had really achieved something. It didn't quite go to plan. I had been practicing my swimming in a local pool. It's actually quite different when your swimming in the ocean, with waves, fully clad in a thick wetsuit. I was already huffing and puffing, sweating uncontrollably and quite shaky from the run when I made it to the swim section. I geared up and jumped in like an demented walrus, unfortunately just 100 meters in to the 500 meter swim I had to be rescued, apparently the commentator had declared there was a person imitating a drowning seagull and could someone please get her out of the water as it was distracting the other competitors. I hadn't even made it half way! I was so disappointed and low I called Mum for some much needed sympathy. "Oh darling, I do hope you're ok. To be honest I did wonder what you were playing at entering such an athletic competition, you know athletics really isn't your thing, plus you probably should have trained a bit more, and tried some swimming in the sea first". Brilliant. Thanks Mum! Everything I already know but didn't want to hear!
So on this occasion I think I will leave the phone where it is.

I can't spend the rest of my life hiding in bed so I make a vow to myself. Tomorrow I will go to the gym, burn off some anger and maybe lose a bit of weight in doing so. I haven't done any exercise since last years triathlon disaster so this can only be a step in the right direction.... I will get fit, beautiful and be all sporty like those hot young yoga instrcutors that walk around clutching their mats and water bottles. Slightly hungry I look around my room, there is a rice cracker on the floor under my desk. I don't know how long it has been there but it will do. I sprint to the other side of the room, as if the floor is about to fall from beneath me and then dive safely back into bed. The rice cracker is old, no crunch left, so I kind of nibble and suck on it until I fall back into a deep sleep.