Tag Archives: chocolate

Working it!

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Stress

Stress (Photo credit: topgold)

Phew! This week I was NOT sacked.

But if you’d asked my inner pessimist what the outlook was on Friday, she probably would have sighed and reached for the nearest super-sized chocolate bar. Why?

All it took was a single, solitary phone call.

My usual employer had his personal assistant call to arrange a meeting. That’s not too shocking, I hear you say. Except, I rarely have contact with my work via anything but email.

“The boss wants some changes,” said the PA.

“He’s getting a bit bored,” said the PA.

“Tell me more,” I implored.

“Oooooh, he’d just like to see you,” fudged the PA.

Earliest available time? Monday. Two full days and a little bit more of anxiety, second-guessing and self-doubt. Good times!

If the weekend was anything to go by, it seems I was raised to find a hidden meaning in the most innocuous of conversations. I was definitely being fast-tracked to the unemployment lines.

Monday rolled around bright and sunny. My sense of dread only increased.

I walked into the office wearing my most patriotic business colours (bright green) and my power boots (suede, in case you were wondering).

“So,” he said. “I’d like to make some changes. I’m getting a bit bored.”

I’ve heard that before, I thought. Here it comes.

“What can we do to really stand out from the crowd?” he said.

“We?” I asked. “Oh, we!” Reality was dawning.

So, I was not sacked. Two and a bit days of worry had been in vain.

That sunny day turned out to be a good omen. I’ve never been so happy to check my emails and find work waiting.

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I’ll have what he’s having . . .

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Biscuit Plate

Biscuit Plate (Photo credit: Caro Wallis)

I give up! I can no longer handle the responsibility of deciding what to eat and when. The whole concept of dieting and fitness just makes me feel tired and a wee bit disheartened. So I’m handing all the food-related decisions over to my husband. I’ll have what he’s having.

When it comes to good health, I think you would be hard-pressed to find two more contrasting characters.

I love cake. I love biscuits. I love chocolate. I love chocolate biscuits. But I especially love bread with a generous scrape of butter on it. My husband, on the other hand, is a salad fiend, never touches bread, eats fruit regularly . . . and jogs. In fact, last week he competed in a triathlon. Meanwhile, I’m getting tired just typing this. Sigh.

Both literally and figuratively, I am being left behind. So it’s time to take action (of the most inactive kind). Henceforth, I am absolving myself of all responsibility when it comes to food.

If he’s going to eat corn crackers instead of bread, so will I. Sniffle.

If he’s going to eat apples instead of cream filled biscuits, so am I. Sob.

And if he’s going to eat muesli instead of thick fresh bread loaded with lashings of peanut butter and honey, so . . . will . . . I. Burst into tears.

Here’s hoping he takes the hint and discovers the block of fruit and nut chocolate I have stashed (rather obviously) in the freezer.

If he’s having that, there’s no way I’m missing out!