When I was growing up, my family had a real feast or famine attitude. When dad got paid, we’d have treats aplenty but then things would get sparser and sparser through the month until eating anything non-essential – a slice of bread after school, some leftovers from the fridge – would be a major issue.
To make things worse, my dad was a contractor working for small businesses so he always had issues about getting paid. There was no regular date when payslip would appear. Sometimes he’d have to wait a week or more after the due date to get his money. I remember being dragged along to his boss’s house on weekends when dad would go to pick up his pay and not being sure why. Looking back now, I think it was because having the kids along (and more than likely whinging about being bored and wanting to go home) made the bossman more willing to pay up.
When we did have treats as kids, it was all about getting in there first and getting what you could. A fight for survival. If Mum baked a cake or bought a packet of biscuits, you had to be ready to jump in before it was all gone. If you were doing something else, maybe engrossed in a book or drawing or taking a nap, then you missed out. I’m sure in some way, it was to make Mum’s stuff more important than anything else that was going on. Drop everything, grab as much as you can, or tough shit – you miss out.
Of course, it’s all fine to analyse this stuff and work out WHY you do things, but the more important step is work out HOW to change. I think the lesson I have to learn is that I’m in charge of my food. If I cook treats, they aren’t going anywhere. I don’t have eat everything at once, I can save some for later and be confident it will be there when I want it.
My cold is back. Why does this keep happening to me? I’m cursed. I’ve taken today off work and I’m trying to sweat it out because I need to get back to the gym. It’s less than 6 weeks to the City to Surf and I’m panicking about the meagre amount of training I’ve done. The longest run I’ve done lately is 6 km.