Monday, September 16: Write a public love letter to someone in your life. (It doesn’t necessarily need to be romantic.)
This is where I should be declaring undying love and admiration to you, this being a love letter and all that. But if the truth is known, you know as well as I, that we don’t get on that much. You were trouble free the first 20 years I had you but the last 20 years we have been through the mill a bit. You complained at being pregnant so much that the first pregnancy you decided to give pre-eclampsia a whirl. Luckily you took head on my stern talking to and gave me a trouble free second pregnancy. Through my divorce and following years you seemed to slip into hyper drive pretty well until we got to the stress bits and you didn’t like that at all. You, quite rightly, complained and whinged till I had to listen to you when you stopped working. And that is where we have remained for the last few years. If I don’t eat properly you have a tantrum. If I eat too much you’re like a spoilt child holding onto every ounce of fat. If I try to lose the weight you kick off and stop working, I can’t win.
So where do we go from here? If you were a car I would have traded you in or at the very least got your rusty bits done and got a new engine. But a car you are not. Your rusty bits I have learnt to live with and the engine is running better now I am looking after it better with fresh fruit and veg. Could we please come to some compromise as I am planning of keeping you for another 40 years plus ? If I promise to look after you a bit better could you please agree to stop holding on to the fat bit, you really don’t need it? Could you also stop with this aching and hurting all over bit too? I really don’t know what I did to deserve that but it’s really not funny anymore, in return I promise to try harder.