Because I am so generous and kind-hearted, each time my brother and his family go on holidays I move into their house to look after their cats. Okay, that’s a bit of a fib. They don’t have anyone else to ask, so ask me. I feel guilty and obliged, so I say yes. But in reality, I don’t mind it too much.
- It is a change having someone to talk to (ie. Esmeralda – the gender-challenged sleek male cat; and Captain Jack Sparrow, the chubby and somewhat stupid tabby cat they got from the RSPCA).
- They have cable television and although they don’t have movie channels (they went for the kids’ package instead?!) I suspect that being there over the Easter long weekend may mean some interesting television marathons. Hopefully (though) not The Simpsons or the like.
- My brother and sister-in-law’s bedroom is huge. It is on the ground level (living space upstairs which is unusual) and surrounded by trees which are visible through their bamboo blinds – so I feel like I am on some tropical island. Or something.
- They have a pool which would be exciting if we weren’t heading into winter, but you never know…
- Their bathtub is larger than mine so far better for lolling about with a book or glass (bottle) of wine.
Of course there are a number of disadvantages. The fact that I have to work out new commuting arrangements to and from work is an issue; but more problematic is that when I am there I find myself acting as if I am on holidays. I make regular trips to the local supermarket and indulge in all sorts of crap. I suspect it’s because I’m usually there around school holidays, which are around public holidays.
At the moment Easter eggs are in plentiful supply in the grocery stores and I know (from previous experience) being home for DAYS at a time offers me many opportunities for overindulgence. Also, not having to work generally means I can imbibe in a vino or two (or three) and practically REQUIRES me to lounge about stuffing my face while wearing n0t-to-be-seen-in-public comfortable attire.
I want this time to be different. Even though I haven’t been perfect since (re)commencing my calorie-counting ways earlier this week (ie. corn chips and dip for dinner last night), I have felt better; and I enjoy not feeling constantly full and bloated. So, while I cannot promise NOT to indulge in chocolate, wine, corn chips and other staples to which I have no immunity, I will aim to take a different approach this time around.
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