“So what do you do for fun?”

Today is a holiday here in Grenada. As I was driving home from the office this evening, I saw my neighbour dressed up and about to leave home. She had some dishes in her hand. I imagined she and her spouse were going to a friend’s home, to be joined by other friends. I silently asked myself why had I been at work, when I no longer work in a hotel, but in the financial sector, which operates Monday to Friday from 8 to 4? It reminded me of a recent conversation which had got me seriously thinking.

A few Sundays ago, I was out to lunch with a friend from overseas and her friend who lives here. As it was a few years since I had seen her, we were catching up on what each other had been doing in the intervening years. Naturally, that included whether there were any developments in the romantic arena. “Nope….no boyfriend,” I reported. Why? Well, mostly because I have always been in work situations where I work many hours, even on weekend and holidays.

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Shaking off my Friday Night Funk

“And so what if I just remain fat?”

This was the message which set off alarm bells and caused some to ask “what’s wrong?”

What led me to feel this way and resulted in me turning into the KFC drive-thru?

Work. More specifically, continuously feeling like I am hitting my head against a brick wall for initiatives which will make the employees better.

So I left work Friday pissed, so pissed that the only thing I felt could help me blow off steam was junk. (I paid dearly next day for having eaten the crappy food.). And I felt like I wanted to detach from the world.

After a few messages and calls Friday and Saturday, I did the self talk, dusted myself off and decided not to wallow. The other thing which shifted my perspective was overhearing a conversation between two ladies on Saturday night. 

“[Name of man friend] is always drunk. Drunk every day. He is verbally abusive to me.” πŸ˜”

Well, life is not so bad for me then.

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Gym episode 09/03: No excuses

Wednesdays during the 40 day challenge is usually when we go walking in the business park. That did not happen. If I didn’t exercise on Wednesday, I would only be doing 3 days for the week and my minimum is 4 days. Decision made….I would go to the gym.

But instead of leaving pronto and going straight, I idled at work then went to the bank. The result? I only had 15 minutes to exercise before I had to meet a friend for dinner. Yes….I carried clothes to bathe and change at the gym.

Busted my tail on the elliptical. Proud buck! Why? In the old days, I would have said since I only had 15 minutes, it didn’t make sense. Since I discovered High Intensity Interval Training (HIIT), even 5 minutes is enough. Continue reading

Gym Episode 22/02: “Every rep counts”

I went through Monday’s lunchtime gym session with Damion Daniel thinking “be careful what you wish for Ms Yamfoot” :?. I’d told him on the weekend that I wanted to do more exercises for the butt. That meant squats and lunges were included.

My knees are getting accustomed to these exercises and I’ve actually not been bothered by them so much, since stepping up my quantity of exercise.

I had to abandon the 10lb dumbells the Trainer had given me to use while doing the lunges. A few times too, I was about to topple over. Ever watchful, he was there to ensure that didn’t happen. Mek mi tell yuh……my thighs certainly felt the burn!

The key to maximizing that move is to keep upright and also get your knee touching the floor when you go down, and drive up using your glutes. I’d watched him last week executing those in perfect form so I knew what it looked like. Heart was willing but thighs and butt were weak. I kept reminding him that I had to go back to work, when I tried to pause during a set. “Every rep counts,” he said, followed by some encouragement. 

To finish up, did 10 minutes of the elliptical. It gets easier each day.

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#Dream last night was so real, it’s uncanny!

Haagen Daz, carrot cake, chocolate cake, groundnut cake…..they all must have contributed to the very vivid dream I had last night.

Vignettte 1

Happened to pass by outside of a media personality’sΒ house. She was dressed up and so was her daughter (Right before I had gone to bed, I had strolled through my Instagram feed and saw a picture of her at NDTC). Although in real life, I don’t know her except on Social Media, we had a nice chat. Then I had somewhere to get to, so I left after a few minutes.

Vignette 2

SawΒ a girl who was a year above me at secondary school. In real life she is married. In the dream, she introduced me to her husband and a son. I don’t know if she has a son in real life. When she was introducing me, she said “this is my son….we have two helpers, one for him and one for us.” She said it again during the conversation, which took place at a dining table. I got the impression that the teen was messy (like….duh….weren’t we all?). I left her because I had somewhere to go. (“I have things to do!”)

Vignette 3

This was the scariest part, but in a way, I knew it was going to be ok in the end (just like how I think about things in life..so me doh worry.). Β So I am driving and I see two roads. I take the one I think will get me there without traffic. I thought I had hit a gold mine when after passing some houses and no car, there was nice smooth Obama-like roads! Β Then the road turned into dirt. What that????? It was descending, I was driving fast, and it appeared that there was nowhere on either side for me to run off to. i.e. either precipice or water on either side. Me doh remember.

When the road descended into a dark place like a cave, still on a dirt road, I had to stop and did. I got out and went to the edge and looked down. There was Dr Carolyn Gomes in a yellow hard hat with a lot of other peeps down below. Looked like they were excavating. Maybe they were in a gold mine??? πŸ™‚ They were about to help me with ropes and such the like, when I woke up.

(Don’t ask. Story of my dreams. Very vivid. Very colourful.)

RIP #JohnnyKemp (Nostalgia Nassau Post)

Just read online that Johnny Kemp died in Jamaica. Immediately, my mind flashed back to my days living in the Bahamas. I was there when the song “Just Got Paid” came out. We used to go to a club calledΒ Club WaterlooΒ and the house band played the song often (and I liked the drummer :)). It was also on heavy rotation on the radio stations.

I’ve posted before how hearing certain songs takes me back…..way back. “Just Got Paid” took me back to 1988, in a great club on East Bay Street with friends who I am still friends with today. All these years I never knew he was Bahamian. So that explains why it was played so often.

RIP Johnny Kemp. It’s Friday night.