Cognitive Behavioural Therapy and fish and chips

A good start to the day. An hour’s solid work, propped up in super king bed, snuggled under duvet with micro-waveable lavender pack and cup of steaming tea, reading my OU course material and reminding myself that this is Summer. Then my scheduled phone call to the chemist to sort out the Cefaclor for J Boy.

Easy, right? Except the chances of the locum chemist getting the prescription right is about as likely as Denis Nielson getting released early to appear on Master Chef. J needs three bottles for 14 days’ course. On Saturday the locum had two of the bottles, but refused to let Ian take the second one home dry. Come back, she said, collect this one and we will sort out the third. Today I checked in for the extra bottles only to discover they had given our second bottle to someone else and had a total of zero for J.

After much to-ing and fro-ing, the extra bottles appeared at 5pm, which meant Ian had to make an emergency stop on his way back from work. And it seemed like good time management to get dinner from the chippy at the same time. Add that to the Easter egg I ate for consolation after my fifth call to the chemist, and you can start to see why I feel fat guilty and generally p’d off  in approximately equal measure.

On my way to collect J, I set out to jog for half an hour. But my glutes  (or should that be guts?) started to ache after about the first thirty seconds. I tried a sort of interval training. Run to one lamp-post, stagger to next, and so on. But my heart wasn’t really in it.

I need to work on my diet and mind frame, which brings me back to cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT). More precisely, back to my OU books and bed, where I can snuggle down again with my books. I am finding this introductory course on counselling and the assignment on CBT absolutely fascinating. Perhaps I should be applying the goal setting tools I am learning about more actively. But, right now, corporeal indulgence and psychological avoidance are the order of the day. Put succinctly, it’s chips and some more hard core slouching for me.

About sarahhillwheeler

Mother, lawyer, fund-raiser, lover of chocolate, coffee and all things beautiful, reluctant exerciser, loves reading, thinking and sleeping.
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One Response to Cognitive Behavioural Therapy and fish and chips

  1. Pingback: Thumbing your nose at freedom « mustard and miscellany

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