Eleven days into the New Year and my only major slip ups involve either a glass of prosecco or a piece of dark, salted chocolate – the call of Green & Black’s!
I have a feeling that 2017 is going to be my year. I am acutely aware that I have had such a feeling before, but this time I actually believe my own bullshit. I do not want to end this year in the same place I began it. Not that there’s anything wrong with the beginning; well nothing much wrong. It’s just that I finally have a taste of the person and the success I want to be and I feel like I’m in the right place in time to realise it. That’s what people do isn’t it? When the rest of the world is going to hell on severely delayed Southern Rail train, the tough got their own arse in gear, right? I suppose the truly decent of us give money to a children’s charity or fly to the mediterranean to volunteer with the migrant crisis, but when you haven’t learned to be quite that selfless yet (I blame childlessness), you do the next best thing. You try and ensure that at the very least, you yourself are not just one more in a long line of benefit-claiming, clinically malnourished, Daily Star-reading fuck-wits. Now, despite those withering adjectives, I am not actually declaring that there’s anything fundamentally wrong with being one of those fuck-wits. Each to their own; there seems to be no right way to behave anymore after all. It’s just I don’t want to be like that. I’d like to be successful, hard-working and proud of what I do. And critically, I’d like to be happy. In fact I’d take that last one all by itself.
The positive side of all this is that I am starting happy. That’s more than can be said for a hell of a number. My relationship is all but perfect, I am somehow managing to hold my finances together on an Office Manager’s salary in London and I am approaching the two-year mark with my current employers, which my HR pal, Cally, assures me is job security in a gift box. I guess it’s less job security and more job satisfaction that I’m searching for. That, and the thoroughly unoriginal need to shift a few pounds. There though, my goal is slightly more complex than usual. Combining clean, healthy eating with the voracious appetite of a career foodie will be an interesting challenge. The struggle is real, thought there may yet be hope for me.
We shall see…