Lucky number 8

Before the start of this school term I made a pact with myself.

I had 8 weeks before the next school hols in which I would drop 8 kilos, add 8,000 words to my novel and write 8 blog posts. Yay! Nothing like a new BAG (big audacious goal).

Whereas grocery shopping used to be my cardio, I’m trying to build proper exercise into the school routine so that I do something energetic every day.

I pretend I’m doing the Atkins Diet – I say pretend because although you’re allowed a glass of wine a day that’s not in the first phase and definitely not three glasses a night. Also KFC’s popcorn chicken and wicked wings aren’t strictly a carb-free protein hit, even if you don’t eat the fries.

So my pact is not exactly on track. I've kept up the running after school-drop-off, but the weight isn’t (Dropping off). And I hate it. I feel like I have lead in my runners and sandbags wrapped around my waist.

I would rather have my armpits hand-plucked than go for a run, on any given day, quite frankly.

I’m thinking though, if I keep hammering away at the anvil one morning I'll just wake up, feeling great and all my clothes, of the non- maternity left-over variety, will miraculously fit me again.  Except running everyday makes me extra hungry.

So I’m a bit in the doldrums; a spotty faced, lead footed Lumpkin.  What’s that? Time for a bit of retail therapy? Yes, well that’s exactly what I thought, but since clothes shopping depresses the hell out of me at the moment, I bought a new door!

It was delivered and installed yesterday and needs to be painted. (even that’s more fun than running) It’s quite freaky though, with a solid door the hall has always looked like a black hole and now- I keep seeing light in my peripheral vision.  All day yesterday, I got halfway through the thought ‘bloody hell, who’s left the front door open?’ before I remembered.  We have triple glazed lead-light panels with a red rose bud in each panel and quite frankly, it’s gorgeous. We just need to decide on a colour.

She-who-worships-at-the –altar- of- pink has already started lobbying for her favourite (gaaaaah). By lobbying I mean, begging and whining that escalates into the threat of tantrums to come.

I have assured her that no self-respecting ‘real-life’ person (nixing the 'Barbie does' argument) would ever paint an actual door, Screaming-Hot Pink. She tried leveraging the fact that the old door was "shiny apple red" too. 

I say; “We didn’t paint it that bright it was already done when we bought the house and we were never keen on it anyway.”

“But it was really lovely, and PINK would be even lovelier, and everyone that sees it will say “WOW look at that lovely PINK door” oh pleeeeeese mummy..’

   

I agree about the 'wow' but I think any other comments to follow that would be very negative ones.

Personally I'm leaning towards a nice heritage charcoal with a hint of blue that blends in with all the iron lacework.

Any ideas from you lot? 

PS: two and a half weeks into my B.A.G : I've lost one just kilo and don't even ask about the novel...