Stuck in the lav

I should be sleeping.  I have to be present and accounted for at QANTAS in, oh – 6 and a bit hours.  Bugger.

One of the video’s this week on the 12WBT site is about sleep, it apparently comes complete with some mini commitments.  I’ve not watched it but have read enough forum updates to know I would only end up incredibly disappointed in myself.  I hate failure.

Pink Troll has just crawled into my bed.  It is just too much effort to move her.  She can stay.

Surprisingly I’m adapting to the food thing really quickly.  Its a busy time in my house, and I made an extra large portion of that lasagne the other night…enough that we have lived off it since Sunday.  Thank god for that, cooking has really not been high on my priority list this week.  The Devil is still going strong – he has dibs on the last piece tomorrow for lunch.  I think the Trolls are over it, as am I.  Dinner is the Devil’s responsibility tomorrow night.

Remember that Pilates session with Yoda last night?  I can barely freaking move!  Feels great though.  That makes me sound like a bit of a wanker.  Keeping up with the lingo, Michelle Bridges refers to it as DOMS (Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness).  What’s worse, I know it is going to hurt even more tomorrow.  You know the type – where it hurts to actually sit on the toilet, making you seriously contemplate just staying there.

I really have to address this sleep thing.  Convinced the nana nap I obviously snuck in while reading to the pink Troll this evening has been the clincher.  Its impossible not to doze off though.  I’m not even able to make it through the entire book  I’m so shagged.  You try reading out loud to a four year old at 7:30 at night.  You can hear yourself sleep-talking, at roughly the same time you feel the book drop.  That is the danger time.  That is when I put the book on the bedside table and convince pink Troll that its time for sleep.  I’m often out before she is.  Usually I wake to hear the Devil gently encouraging the blue Troll for the fifty millionth time to clean his teeth and get into bed.  That’s when I roll out of pink Trolls room and bing, I’m awake again after a 30 minute power nap.

Looking at the clock and have realised I have the first alarm set for 5:30, the second one for 5:45.  I find myself mentally calculating just how long I really need to get ready and out the door by 6:30…do I really need to wear make-up, I can save myself 10 minutes.  Breakfast, I can have that at the airport, or a banana in the car…I have however been smart enough to pack my gym bag so I can go straight from the airport tomorrow afternoon for my next punishing session with Yoda and Ms P, fully functioning QANTAS aircraft dependent.

Just remembered.  I have to stand on those scales in a couple of hours, any last minute suggestions to tip the scales in my favour?

Shrinking - or not

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