• Being poor and speaking glibly

    Tuesday, November 24, 2015 Permalink

    I recently had an online conversation with someone about a pair of shoes I’m coveting. I said my love for them was irrational and a friend queried why. I explained that I wasn’t really working at the moment and was poor (relatively speaking). Which meant I had to make sensible financial decisions.

  • Things others do

    Tuesday, November 17, 2015 Permalink

    When I had my diet blog I was always surprised, and kinda touched, when people would thank me for my over-sharing.

    “Oh… thank god it’s not just me!” they’d say, telling me how much they could relate to my posts. 

  • How I see me

    Tuesday, November 10, 2015 Permalink

    I dream of ‘a-ha’ moments but rarely have them. I’ve always hoped the switch in my head that flipped sometime back in 1983 (when I became anorexic, obsessed with food and my eating behaviour changed) would flick back. The proverbial lightbulb moment. Or similar.

    Suddenly I would be ‘cured’. I’d go back to being someone who just overate occasionally, exercised for fun or sport, and struggled just a little with their weight in a philosophical but #whatevs kind of way.

    Alas. That hasn’t happened. Indeed it may never happen.

  • Through the windscreen

    Wednesday, November 4, 2015 Permalink

    Last weekend marked the third anniversary of my seachange. The time seems to have flown as I still remember waiting at a nearby cafe for the lawyers to sign on the dotted line so I could get the key for my new apartment by the ocean.

    I suspect it’s the project manager in me that’s usually tempted to do a bit of a check-in to see how I’m faring against the goals and plans I set for my seachange, but I’ve decided against it. In essence, I kinda know what I said and what I have and haven’t done. And I know what I regret.

  • September 11 and the sounds of silence

    Friday, September 11, 2015 Permalink

    A few friends have shared their memories of September 11 on Facebook today—where they were and how they heard the devastating news… and so forth.

    I’ve also been thinking about the anniversary as a friend is holidaying in the spot I was when I learned of the tragedy.

  • Slow Cooker Success

    Friday, August 28, 2015 Permalink

    When Hervey Bay nurse and mother of three Paulene Christie started a slow cooker Facebook Group almost three years ago, she had no idea she was creating something that would change her life.

    Paulene once viewed cooking as a necessary evil—something she did to feed her family. But that all changed when she got her first slow cooker.

  • An apartment makeover?

    Tuesday, July 21, 2015 Permalink

    Unless you live under a rock beneath a mountain in the middle of nowhere you’ll know I live opposite the beach. Of course… if this is your first time here, your ignorance is forgivable… although I do recommend you swot up for next time. ‘Cos at various times since making my seachange almost three years ago I’ve plastered pictures of my lovely unimpeded ocean view on this blog and all over my Facebook, Instagram and Twitter feeds.

    my view

  • Falling into place

    Friday, July 17, 2015 Permalink

    Although part of me is nervous about speaking too soon, I’m relieved to say that things seem to be finally falling into place.

    I’ve talked a bit here about my experiences since finishing full time work with the government (three years ago in September) and making my seachange. I have absolutely no regrets about my decision but it’s been a lot harder than I expected to find work.

  • Are you a bed maker?

    Thursday, July 9, 2015 Permalink

    I’ve been spending a bit of time at my mother’s in recent months. Initially because I just needed a break away from my four walls, desk and own mind; then she had some technology problems and I was helping out; and then this week I hung out here because I’d been unwell and she picked me up in my nearby town and took me back to her place (which is also my childhood home). I think she worried if I collapsed at my own place no one would be there to find me and I’d be discovered weeks later, half-eaten by dachshunds. Or similar.*