Thursday, November 19, 2009

Wretched Woman

As I have said in previous blogs, I think I’m a pretty intelligent woman. Not trying to be arrogant or self-important. I think quickly and always have. One thing (only one thing?! Ha!) confounds me ... for an intelligent woman, why am I so stupid?

Is there any one of us who doesn’t know what healthy food is? Do we not know that salad is a better choice over hot chips? I mean, we’re not really confused by the fact that they’re both made from vegetables are we? We don’t need some chemist or dietician or weight-loss guru to tell us that fat is bad, do we? Really?

In fact, I not only know what’s good for me, I can feel what’s good for me. I have an intolerance to gluten and dairy. It is boring and annoying and I hate it, but I try to eat within the limitations. If I eat gluten, I get sinus attacks within three days. If I eat dairy, I get what feels similar to a stomach virus within hours. If I am gluten & dairy free for an extended period, I feel healthier, my immunity is boosted and I am pain free. And yet ... when the cream laden pastries are within arms reach ..... swoop! I’ve got one in my mouth and two in my pockets for later! Idiot.

Not to mention the whole weight - exercise - health issue. I know what it feels like to have strong joints and to visibly notice a difference in the toning of my body. I know what it feels like to drop a dress size. But when I’m alone in the car I’ll still drive thru at KFC?! Why, why, why do I make such stupid eating choices?

I hate housework but I love a clean house. I am a procrastinator of the highest order when it comes to chores. Of particular note is clothes washing. I have a friend who actually loves washing the clothes. She enjoys the sorting, the hanging out of fresh, damp laundry, the folding of fluffy newly dry fabric, kissed by the sun and the satisfaction of putting away piles of clothes into their respective places. Nightmare! Nightmare, I say!

But in reality, each step of the laundry process takes very little time. Hanging out a load takes 10 minutes, tops. And yet, stupid/intelligent me avoids doing the task for so long that it ends up needing to be re-washed. The same goes for taking the load down off the line. Many’s the time when I have left a load to be rained upon over days rather than be bothered to venture outside.

What is wrong with me? Why don’t I do the things I know I should do, quickly and when it’s needed. It’s such a good feeling to have them done and yet I leave the jobs fermenting. Fool.

And ironing? You might ask. Oh please .... I don’t iron.

I am a very talkative person. As I’ve mentioned previously, I’ll always offer my opinion and assume that everyone wants to listen to it! But I hate talking on the phone. I especially hate making the phone call. I think there’s something wrong with me. Maybe I got beaten with a phone as a child or something (sorry Mum!).

I hate the dialling (old fashioned term when you think about it), the waiting for the answer, the ‘not sure who you’re speaking to’ feeling, the embarrassment of assuming the voice is your girlfriend’s when in fact it’s her 14 year old son. (Actually at that moment I’m glad I’m on the phone so that we can’t see each other blush!) I hate the forced small talk before you can get to the point of why you’re calling, I hate the lack of eye contact and body language clues and I hate the inane ‘winding up banter’ eg. “Well, I guess I better let you go” Translation: I don’t want to talk to you anymore but I’m pretending I’m stopping out of courtesy to you.

In fact, I take this dislike of phone calls to a whole new level. I have been known to avoid making phone calls for MONTHS for no other reason than I just don’t want to pick up the phone. Making the call would actually only take five minutes and all normal people do it. What is my problem?? Crazy.

The arrival of SMS messaging was the dawn of a new and blessed era for me. Oh the joy of short, sharp, witty comments, practical reminders and brief notes of encouragement or concern with absolutely no need or expectation of banter, openings, endings or awkward silences. Thank you God, for SMS’s.

I’m sure there are many more ways in which I demonstrate the oxymoron of intelligent stupidity. I do what I shouldn’t do and don’t do what I should do. What a wretched woman I am. Am I alone in this? Does anyone else have an unreasonable fear of phones, clothes washing or gluten starvation?

I’m so odd. And at odds with life sometimes.

Thank goodness ... thank God that this life is not all we’ve got.