Give us this day ....

Our daily whinge.

Over the last couple of days I have been wrestling with feelings of inadequacy. Wrestling and losing.  Not certain where they came from.  Am certain I would like them to piss off.  Postcards not required.

My body is not behaving well which I find a little surprising given that we are now into cooler weather.  But no, the body is stiff, sore and reluctant to move.  Humph.  And the mind seems to be following suit.  A swim might help, but for the last few days it has seemed toooo hard.  Perhaps tomorrow.  I don't know why swimming often helps with the pain but so long as I manage a least a kilometre it mostly does.  And on the occasions it doesn't I am mightily peeved.

This morning I went for a walk.  It felt as if I had a broomstick up my fundament and probably looked like it too.  I only wandered down to the local shops and back - a round trip of a couple of kilometres.  While there I picked up some tofu which I am fond of.  The smaller portion refers to it as bean turd and implores me to consider the tofudelopes who have been sacrificed.  I also hit the book stall which lies in lurk there.  A very cheap range of interesting titles.  And I am such a regular customer I get discounts on the discounts (25% today).   The walk home is up hill and a little more challenging.  And the benefits from the walk (except of course for the tofu and the books) were marginal.  Still stiff, still sore.  Sigh.

My current reading is probably not helping on the inadequacy front.  One of the books currently on the go is an autobiography by Dianna Patterson who was the first Australian woman to become leader at one of our Antarctic research stations.  A super high-achiever and a driven woman who while in Antarctica taught herself Chinese using audio tapes in her spare time (!?).

And, because I am a glutton for punishment, I have agreed to assist in training the newest group of Lifeline recruits next Saturday.  It will be a big and gruelling day, starting before eight and probably finishing around half five.  And tears will almost certainly be shed by some of the trainees.  Hopefully not by me.   And if it is as full-on as I expect I will probably be better off taking to my bed for a few days afterwards.  All because I find no a difficult word.  To say to myself or to other people. I had been successfully ignoring the begging emails when they played dirty and rang up with the personal approach.  And I couldn't think of any reason for my refusal which didn't sound like an excuse.   'I don't wanna' somehow doesn't cut it.  Aaaargh.