Monday, 15 October 2012


I always knew that my laissez-faire, or should I say, cavalier attitude towards a healthy lifestyle, would one day, catch up with me.  

I did at one time regularly do the Jane Fonda exercise video, albeit with a half arsed attitude.  When she said 'lets go get a glass of water, in between the warm up and the aerobics, I would get a can of Stella, and then spark up a fag when they all went to get their mats.  I would have a few drags whilst we were all sat in the  Buddha position.  

Anyway, perhaps I should have entitled this, the occasional journal of getting used to diabetes, and probably going about it the hard way.

Enough to say, the first job I had on leaving school at 15, was receptionist/clerk/typist.  I had a school certificate that said I could type at 35wmp, and a very servile attitude.  I had spent a long time in a convent.  But back to the story, the job was at the Council Offices of Dartford Rural Borough Council.  I would walk to Swanley Station, with my 65 year old companion, who would thrust her handbag at me, and shout back 'you bring the bags, I'll run on ahead for the tickets'.  I kid you not, she was one of those lovely, sprightly, Joyce Grenfeld types, so not necessarily a prophesy of a lifetime of lethargy on my part. Have been chanting 'I will wash the lightshades' for several weeks now, in the hope hope, it will eventually sink in.  I have deliberately bought new white ones, knowing that I could not live with the shame of the nicotine stains - My inner Mrs Bouquet.  Possibly, due to my new best friend, being Irish, Catholic and get this, tory!  Suffice to say, I am presently bedazzled by these new lightweight hoover, come duster thingys, they keep advertising.  Anything that allows me to spend a wee while longer on my fat arse is worth a try.
I feel like the advertisers have probed me and discovered the secrets of my desire.  I used to have a cupboard full of defunct, labour saving devices, and I am shameless enough to say, I doubt any of them gave up the ghost through overwork. Have you ever tried selling 10 broken vacuum cleaners at a bootsale in November. Especially, when you know full well, you cannot lie, because you throttled that nagging little Jiminy Cricket on your shoulders yonks ago and your red face would melt a snowman.      

Anyway, Stage One, lose weight I guess.  I am presently thinking of the divine Stephen Fry and his amazing weight loss achievement.  Walking.  Simple as that.  Oh, and also extreme housework.  Nowt like having a good clear out.  Presently do not know if I am high or low, as have been skipping meals, so I can have tea with sugar in.  I know I must follow a rigid 'eating' regime.  Its gonna be a struggle....... 

Follow my ups and downs as I get used to things, bearing in mind, that I have officially been diagnosed with disassociated personality disorder too, so there will be ups and downs, and probably a few giggles.  One of the 'me's' is bit like old Ada, and loves a moan. Would appreciate hearing from others, and learning how they have coped? how it has changed their lives?  How they found out?


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