Here’s a story that doesn’t paint me in a particularly flattering light: part of the reason I chose my career was because of a slightly unhealthy obsession with the idea of “moments”.
To explain what I mean, let me tell you a tale about a thirteen year old boy who would grow up to have the most epic beard mankind had ever seen.
I wish I had a snappy and entertaining introductory line for you all today, but alas I’m currently suffering from a cold that’s making me feel like my head is 99% fluid so I’m afraid my brain power is somewhat limited. If you haven’t already seen my review series on Sukha Life (or have no idea what the heck Sukha Life actually is), then firstly I’d recommend you go check out my first post here detailing the business and why I chose to try it, then check out my post here reviewing the first couple of days’ meals. Today I’m going to take you through the last three days’ worth of food and sum up my overall thoughts about the process. It’s a long one so let’s get straight to it!
So you know those times where you have an awesome plan of attack in your head and it all rapidly goes to heck to such a degree that you can’t remember what your plan actually was in the first place? Were you going to elope to Ecuador? Or did you just need to pick up milk from the shops? Could be either. Well that was the kind of week I started having – d’oh! In saying that, having my first few days of Sukha Life delivered definitely made it easier. If you haven’t heard of Sukha Life before, click here to read my introduction to this review series which contains general information about the brand and why I gave them a try. If you already read that, then read on to learn about the foods I’ve been stuffing my face with the past couple of days!
Let me paint you a picture: it’s 8:30pm on a Thursday night. I’m sitting in Macdonald’s with a Big Mac and two serves of fries in front of me. I’ve already picked out the second meat patty and half the cheese from the burger and tossed over half the fries in a pile in the corner of my tray, never to be consumed. On the ground next to me is a shopping bag full of fruit loops, kool fruits, rice crackers, sherbies and tic toc biscuits. My parents, who I currently live with while saving to buy a house, have been away overseas for just over 24 hours and already I’m taking the opportunity to indulge in all the things I can’t eat when my mother is present to hound me about the shit I put into my body (which is not a complaint by the way – her nagging is an essential part of my path to health… clearly, given what happens the moment she’s not around). I have not cooked one meal in that time. I frown, scoop up the tray, toss its contents into the bin and walk back to my car.
“This isn’t going to work.” I think as I toss the shopping bag haphazardly into the back seat and drive home.
Suffice to say, I don’t eat this poorly every day of my life, but frankly it’s all just lesser degrees of the same.
It’s fair to say then that I probably don’t seem like the target demographic for local Adelaide business Sukha Life, whose marketing seems far more appropriate for women who spend half their life in yoga pants and the other half campaigning to have organic fair trade goods available in all local supermarkets. And yet, after staring at the contents of my cupboard, I found myself going ahead and spending two weeks’ worth of food budget on five days’ worth of meals. So why, and how’d it go?
It’s becoming increasingly apparent that my time to blog is usually crammed in between the twenty different lives I lead and try to pass off as one cohesive loop. I feel that this is a trait that many of us wannabe adults (i.e. people who, by definition of their age, should know how to keep their lives together but are actually faking their way through it all and hoping no one notices they have no idea what they’re doing) share – the constant juggling of work, friends, family, hobbies, interests and shiny things that caught our attention at one point or another. I feel like I consequently haven’t had time to connect with you guys the way I want to. A lot of the time, I want to fill you in on smaller things without spending 2,000 words going into the intricacies of a product or event’s good sides and bad. With that in mind, I decided now would be a great time to introduce this new feature.
Welcome to the monthly roundup, where I’ll be filling you in on whatever happenings of the month I think might make your day a little brighter! Topics will be sorted into subtitles, so feel free to scroll and choose what interests you!
So I have a confession to make: when I put on weight, I decided bra shopping was too damn hard. I could not for the life of me find a store that stocked my size (or rather, what I thought was my size). Even on occasions where I’d decided “stuff it!” and been willing to pay a small fortune, I still couldn’t find a damn thing to fit. I was consequently really curious when I heard about Buxom Envy, a store in Adelaide which operates via appointment only.
I confess I was sceptical. Their instagram said they specialised in small back and large cup sizes but I’m a large back and average cup so I wasn’t convinced it would be for me. I shot them a message via Insta asking if they stocked things in my size and was assured that they did, so off I went to make an appointment.
Food addiction. Do those words sound like absolute bollocks invented by the media to you? Fair enough. Sit down my friends and allow me to introduce you to my world.
I have a shocking announcement for you – I’m a fat person. I know, I know, try to hold back your incredulity. It’s a fact. I am in excess of 30+ kilos overweight and it’s literally killing me.
When you look at me, you will know that I am a fat person, but you may not think it’s that big of a deal.
“But Steph,” people so often exclaim, “you don’t look that big!”
While I thank you for your flattering observation, the fact remains that I am marching myself towards death by Type 2 Diabetes at a really rapid pace.
“Well!” I hear you huff behind your computer screens. “Do something about it then!” I couldn’t agree more. And here, dear reader, is where I need you to understand a few things.
As I’m writing this, it is 7:21am on a Monday morning. As with every Monday morning, I dragged myself forcefully out of bed about eighty-one minutes ago. I had, as always, intended on being up far earlier than that, but last night was the usual cycle of panicking about the coming week and consequently not being able to sleep, leading to me panicking about not being able to sleep and therefore continuing the painfully awake loop. Thus it was under duress that I forced my weary feet onto the floor after tossing aside the sheets soaked in my sweat from the nightmares that came when I did finally fall asleep for a meagre few hours. As I rub my eyes and try to focus on the bleary screen in front of me, the same thought permeates my mind:
Hello lovely how-to-girls! If you’ve followed me for a while, then you’ll know that in April I received my first ever subscription box in the form of the Boxie April Box. As I have reviewed this before, head over to that review (linked above) to get my general thoughts on the overall customer service experience.
As a quick refresher taken from my last review:
“Boxie is a monthly subscription box that has only just been released in Australia. For $31.95 a month, you get 3-4 fashion, lifestyle or accessory items and 2-3 full sized beauty products. You’re billed on the first of each month and can cancel at any time.”
So that’s where we’re at. The boxes ship between the 15th-20th of each month. On this occasion, I think they were actually a little late to ship out for reasons I shall explain below. Mine arrived on the 29th of May.
On more than one occasion in life, someone has (without warning or a great deal of context) referred to me as a “strong independent woman”. On more than one occasion, I have had to tilt my head to one side as I try to figure out if they’re being patronising or not. About 50% of the time, they are.
We live in a modern society that preaches a strange dichotomy. Women are raised on the traditional diet of fairy tales and chick flicks that teach us that we should have our hero riding in on a white horse at any moment, but we also have this newly emerging viewpoint telling us that we don’t need no man and we’re queens in our own right. All very well and good, but ultimately a confusing contradiction. I imagine (though I cannot possibly speak from experience) that men suffer a similar problem, not just in portrayals of masculinity, but also in what they’re told to be attracted to. Is it the traditional damsel in distress they like feeling that they can help (not necessarily a bad thing), or is it the strong independent woman who exudes confidence and assurance (also not a bad thing)?