Monday Confessions

Monday Confessions

While most people have begrudgingly crawled out of bed and are dragging themselves against their will into the new work week filled with dread, I am secretly happy.

Yes I have a confession to make.

I love Monday’s.

There aren’t too many meme’s for those of us that do. I feel like I have to keep it on the QT. Work colleagues be like Urggggg so I pretend and go …

“Ja… yoh Monday’s hey”

But not any more. I have immersed myself in enough self development content to know that visualisation is based on science and that if you think you are going to have a kak week and that Monday’s are where the kak begins, then it will be so and your brain will find evidence to support that theory. In fact, your brain cannot tell the difference between a negative past experience and negative thoughts. Your brain experiences them both the same way.

Just chew on that for a moment.

The shitty Wednesday you had last week and your thoughts that this week is going to be much of the same even though it hasn’t actually happened yet, doesn’t make a difference to how your brain interprets it. (I would insert a reference point here but there are too many to rattle off. Tony Robbins, Mel Robbins, NLP etc etc. Google it. )

I have another confession to make. I love mornings. Yup. I said it. Out loud.

Now I know my Mom is choking on her coffee or apple slice or a handful of home roasted nuts. Or most likely that sneaky piece of chocolate she was hoping to have while no one was looking. I was NEVER a morning person. I’d calculate the absolute latest time I needed to wake up to get the maximum sleep and still get to school or work on time.

But people change. Or more accurately kids changed me when I realised that waking at the crack of dawn gave me my only sliver of hope of having a meal without indigestion and a cup of tea I hadn’t warmed up 4 times.

Morning and Monday’s both give me the opportunities to start fresh and to make little changes and improvements. I’m not talking about big life changing events. Just little tweaks. Refinement if you will. They both give me possibilities. If the previous day didn’t go as smoothly as I’d hoped, I’d evaluate it, make some tweaks and in the morning I get to give it another go.

As you know I’m focusing on getting my mornings right and although my plans seem rather ambitious, and no I haven’t #nailedit, but … BUT I am making progress. I am listening to podcasts. Not always in the morning- more like in the car. I am watching interesting TED Talks. I am meditating – also not quite every day – and I am having hot water with a slice of lemon (ok that I’ve definitely nailed). I might not be getting to all of it in the order I envisioned and I’ve noticed I need to change a few things or make some seemingly minor adjustments like where I sit in the lounge, what I do first and that is also ok. I’m not looking at it as failure. I’m looking at it as figuring out what is not working in order to find out what does work. The point here is that I am not trying. I am DOING. Trying implies that I’m going to think about making an attempt. Doing means I am getting up and doing the things I said I would do.

The same applies to Monday’s. A new week to have a better week than the week before. Answer calls like I am happy to hear from work colleagues. Reply to emails like I am having a conversation with them in person and it’s not the 112th email of the day with the same query. Carving time out for me. Quality time for the kids. Phoning a friend. Working on my goals. Working on my side hussle – my writing – my self development- my creativity. I have a half painted dressing table turned desk as I ran out paint but that’s ok. I am half way through my new book. That is also ok. I am doing things. I always say that I am a work in progress.

And while I’m on the topic of confessions, I confess that I “borrowed” a school peak from the lost property box with another kids name on it as I didn’t have time to get Aiden another one for his first cricket match! ( he lost his first one). I did replace it this week after I got sorted. Promise. Thank you Swartz family for lending it to us.

I also confess I pack the same sarmie all week in Aiden’s lunch box ( affectionately known as the floating sarmie) as I know he doesn’t eat it or even open it but if anyone looks in his lunch box then it looks like I am feeding my child.

I confess to a shameful swipe or two at the gym as I just needed 100 points to reach my goal and didn’t have time for a workout.

I confess that I found the entire Suburb’s ant colony in my butter dish, with a full brick of butter and instead of tossing it, I stuck the whole thing in the freezer and then just scraped the ants off once frozen. Firstly the cold would have killed off any germs and most importantly … butter is f&£! Expensive. I wasn’t going to throw that away.

And I confess that when I should be reading my book or writing, I am playing Two Dots … obsessively! Level 412.

Here’s to Monday’s and mornings perfectly sorted


PS I confess that although generally I do love Monday’s, I don’t like Monday’s that start with a 4.15am wake up and a 5am Uber to the airport for a flight and then a two hour drive and then a six hour meeting and then a work dinner. #justsaying



I took this photo the other morning in a rush, between getting back from the gym and changing for work. I hadn’t been having great workout sessions of late, and I thought it was perhaps because I didn’t have a goal in place. That morning I focussed on core work, and when I got home I decided I would keep my goal pretty straight forward and simple for the next few months, considering nothing else in my life is straight forward or simple.

I want a 6-pack.

Of the muscle variety, not of Savannahs or Smirnoff Ice. Although I could do with some right now of those too.

My son is so “ripped” it is not even a joke and often tries to compare his 12 -pack with my, well let’s call it a 6 pack of croissants under a dishcloth maybe ok? It’s there, if you feel, it is there, but not so obvious when you first look. It looks perhaps a little lumpy, but that could be the texture of the dish cloth or the lighting. But it is underneath, it’s definitely there, promise. So, I took this photo as a “before” shot. Something to compare to down the line.

Later that night, after the kids had finally gone to bed, I was checking Instagram, (apparently I was told it’s a thing.. an Instagram break) and I clicked on the button for add photo instead of the search and my abs shot came up. I had taken a few shots from different angles. I swiped right for the filter option, a bit of cropping and then, when it came to writing a caption I stopped. I stared at the photo and the words were reflecting back to me “Write a caption…”

This morning, this was my “before” photo to spur me on. But with a different angle, the right filter, some careful cropping and, most importantly a different attitude, this photo could be someone’s “after” photo. It could be their “best ever” photo. It could be their “This is me, take me as I am” type of photo.  Or their “I am happy with me” photo. Depending on how you look at things, this could be my “after” photo. If I look back on the photos of me after I had my daughter, this photo could be the crowning achievement of the last 3 years of working out pretty much consistently day in and day out. It was meant to be the photo to show the start of my 6-pack goal. I could pin point so many flaws in this pic. But then again, I have seen a lot worse staring back at me from that very same dressing table mirror, a lot worse.

So here is what stumped me. What stopped me from adding this photo to Instagram…. I didn’t know what to write. Was this a post about me saying I am not happy with how I look right now? Was this a post saying how happy I am with how I look right now? Neither was accurate.


What you see in the mirror is sometimes like Instagram. There are filters. Perhaps not Lark, or Gingham or Amaro.  Sometimes what we see in the mirror is completely different on a different day, depending on the mood, how positive or negative you are feeling about yourself, hormones, your reasoning, thought, attitude, your past, your future… the comment from your friends, partner or gym instructor –  good or bad. Perhaps you just scoffed 6 crackers with cheese and balsamic caramelised onions, or are you on your third glass of wine? These are all filters of some kind. Are you standing with your head held high or slumped over? I was told if you hold your arms up your mid-section looks better. Did you take the photo in the morning or the evening? That’s at 1-2kg different for me right there folks. Time of day. Always important.
So after a lot of reflection on this photo, I have decided to Write a caption….

Me, content and embracing what is staring back at me in the mirror, flaws and all, and about to embark on a 6 – pack challenge to keep my mind as well as my workouts focussed.
#selfmotivation #smallgoalsbigwins #reflectionisgood #reflectionisintheeyeofthebeholder

La Dolce Far Niente

La Dolce Far Niente

I’m not sure if it’s the miserable weather, or the “nearing the year end” burnout but this week I’ve been feeling pretty sorry for myself. So I decided instead of “busy-ing” my evenings away with various projects and goals, that I would just take this week to indulge in my self pity and and try do as the per the Italian saying “La Dolce Far Niente” – and enjoy the sweet art of doing nothing.
Translation :- holed up in bed binge watching Showmax. 3 Seasons of Younger (Great series about a 40 year old pretending to be a 26 year working in marketing in a publishing company) done and dusted already.

Continue reading “La Dolce Far Niente”