So the new year is upon us. Typically a time for reflection and aspirations. And I'm not going to be one to miss out on that.
The year started on a low. An utter low. I hated my job and my depression was spiralling out of control because of it. My supervisor was a complete cunt. I cut myself off from my freinds and family. Sat at home and hated on myself. Yeah, I'd call it a low point.
And then I got a new job! A light at the end of the tunnel. Only the new job didn't start for 2 months. It was a very long tunnel. I got demoted the day before I got the offer. I was ready to go to HR when I got the call. I sort of wish I had. He's still being a cunt to the GalPal, only the sweetest, nicest girl in the world. But two months of hell, and I was free! Leaving that place was the best thing I'd ever done for myself.
The new job was great. It didn't have an auspicious start, what with throwing up repeatedly on the first day. Took a while to settle in and for my moods to regulate themselves. But I'm ok now.
Weight loss was a big thing for me. I gave up dancing and sex for it. I managed to shed 10kg. Some days that's good, some days its not good enough. I wanted to lose 15 kg. Today, 10 kg is good.
I met two bloggers. Both of whom I adore to peices. I aimed to meet a few others, but that never ended up happening.
I went to two concerts. Michael Buble and Matchbox 20. Loved them both, but not as cool as the Snow Patrol one.
Had dinner with my dad and siblings in September. It was damn expensive. The whole weekend cost me $500. I don't think I would have done that since maybe Christmas of 2001.
The year ended ok. I wanted to go to the city to watch the fireworks. But I pulled up injured and grumpy as fuck, so that idea went out the window. I vowed to stay home and be grumpy. Went out to watch the local fireworks. Then ended up at the pub with some of the girls from findafuck.
I had some rediculous allergic reaction, and HALF of my bottom lip swelled. It looked like I had the whole of Angelina's pout in half of my bottom lip. I'd spent half the night biting on my lip to keep it from spilling out and looking hideous. As I left the hothot bouncer started trying to tlak to me, but I was so self concious of my epically swollen lip, that I pretty much just ran past him. Damn.
The next day it was still swollen, and majorly bruised. Note to self: No chewing on numb lips. I can't feel if I'm damaging it.
Clearly, I want to lose more weight. That's number one priority.
I want to have more sex.
I want to manage to fit in gym time, sex, dancing, friends and me time.
I want to be the best I can be at my job.
Did I mention I want more sex? That includes a threesome.