A Fitness Cult

I went to the BodyArt workout today - for the first time since New Year. For some reason I could never get to workouts during these two weeks - either they had been cancelled or the time had been changed, and I didn't know.
But I went there today, and the body had almost forgotten the movements that I thought it new by heart. Anyway, I felt such a high afterwards that I applied for a masterclass in a couple of weeks, a 3-hour-workout, 20 euros, in Riga. And I came home and told my husband that I really really really wanted to go to the BodyArt summer camp (220 euros).
- Wow, - he said. - That's a lot of money. Are you sure you're not in some religious cult?

Oh, I do hope I am. I want to be a part of that fitness cult so, so, so much...

(P.S. And also, last Friday in a counselling lecture the professor told us that it was actually the standard way of battling addictions - to replace them with socially acceptable addictions - most frequently sports and fitness. How I wish to get rid of that sugar addiction and replace it with workouts... What's keeping me from really doing it? If I only knew.)
(P.P.S. A psychotherapist whose group counselling I attended used to say, "But you do know. Don't say you don't. A person always knows.")

It's Winter, and It's Hard

I've gained weight. It's so hard to admit this, but I've beaten my PW (personal worst), and I really don't feel the resources needed to deal with this.

I'm almost done with the first semester of studies. I feel I'm well on my way to become a psychologist, but the real career and goals seem rather unattainable right now.

It's all due just to a couple of things that will be over by the end of this week, but for some reason they seem so hopelessly huge that I feel a bit helpless. I need to finish translating a book (Minecraft Blockopedia, no less!) (311 pages, no less!), I need to do three episodes of X Factor UK (and one of those is 98 minutes, hopeless, I know). And then there are two term-papers for school. Due this Saturday.

It seems I don't get to do the things I want to do, and partly that's because of the weather. It's winter, and the roads are just dreadful, there is no other word. They make me dread going anywhere. I got in a bit of an accident on the road a couple of weeks ago. No one was hurt, but I got so scared that I don't get any pleasure from driving any more. Just dread. And last Saturday I got pulled over by the police and had to pay 40 Euros for running the yellow light. (Yellow! And they even reprimanded me for driving so slowly, below the speed limit! That's a first for me.)

We're redecorating Walter's room, and by "us" I mean Arthur. I just provide the money. Lots of it.

I don't  feel the new year has begun. Just the opposite. I'm feeling old and stretched - like Bilbo Baggins in "LOTR".

Sort of stretched, like... butter scraped over too much bread. I need a holiday. A very long holiday. And I don't expect I shall return. In fact I mean not to. 

Yes, that's what I mean. I need to get rid of all things "Diana", and start anew. Afresh. 

This is what I saw yesterday. It's in the middle of a city, just by a highway. I envy this man so much. I want to be him.

See you tomorrow, I need to go to a Parents Board meeting at school. I have no idea what I'll be doing or (God forbid!) saying there.