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Balancing the Scales

Those who know me will tell those who don’t that I have a slight tendency to worry about things: money, work, weight, the fact that we are slowly running out of chocolate…

The main thing I worry about though, is worrying. Do I spend too much time worrying about work, and not enough time worrying about how many workouts a week my puggle is getting? Do I spend too much time worrying about money and not enough time worrying about how I spend my time? Do I spend too much time worrying about how much I weigh and not enough time actually enjoying the food I can eat? Most definitely.

I’m worried about finding the balance between work and play. How much more time should my mind spend in the office than my body does and how much time in the day should I dedicate to stressing about whether I’m doing a good job while my body is actually in the office. Is it OK not to worry about work even though I often deal with people whose entire livelihood is in my hands? Am I going mad here?

How do you find the balance? How do people successfully juggle all that and not manage to worry about any of it too much? I honestly have no idea. I don’t think I’m ever going to be one of those people. I’d be too stressed out over not worrying that I’d probably give myself a complex. I do yoga sometimes to find my inner chill, but there is always at least one point in every session where I worry I’m not doing it right.

Then I found this video:

It now makes total sense.

I know I may spend too much time worrying about work, about my genetically impaired pooch, and worrying itself. Yes, I do clean too much (but honestly, that’s now become more of a weekly workout than a chore now), but I do put the important bits in the jar first as well.

Yes, I do focus maybe too much on my job sometimes, but I always want to make sure I’ve got time to put the people in my life above my source of income; I may fill my jar with an awful lot of sand, but it is just that – sand. It’s tiny bits of grit that I overthink because it’s a personality flaw, but I’ve got my big priorities straight. And while I may not be cured of my overthinking – it’s comforting to know that there is always room for chocolate.

 

 
 

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If there’s no chocolate in heaven I’m not going

Taken from ideasbynet.com

I have been thinking about chocolate. Those of you who know me will know that this is not an uncommon occurance. Chocolate is one of the basic fundamentals in my life – one of the things I could not live without. It is an attachment so strong that I would go so far as saying that a chocolate bar would be one of the five things I would grab when fleeing a burning building. I would sacrifice my phone for it.

I have been trying to find the best way to rationalise my relationship with chocolate – why I love it so much, why my attachment is becoming stronger, and I think I may have finally cracked it. Chocolate is good for you – good for the soul.

Before you all disregard this idea hear me out… First of all, it’s made from BEANS. Last time I checked, that was a vegetable (I don’t care that cocoa beans aren’t really vegetables, I hear beans, I think veg…) Secondly, I am becoming more dependent on chocolate as I get older. I am no longer a child. I must face up to this (Boyf when you read this, please refrain from doing your smug dance – I had to deal with it at some point, but it doesn’t make you right) and if owning up to becoming an adult means I can justifiably drown in chocolate then all the better. It is often said that you become wiser with age, and as I am becoming more dependent on the stuff, doesn’t that mean that on some level, my subconscious knows that chocolate is good for me? I’d like to think so. I have to believe it is true. There has to be some perks to getting older. I’m not saying I’m old by any means. I have a fruitful and long life ahead of me I am sure, just like I am sure that I’m supposed to be enjoying chocolate during that life. It’s fate.

Chocolate is the diamond of the confectionery world. It may not last forever, but the love that remains with the wrapper does. It’s the perfect partner, it has restored my faith in love. There’s no fighting, no nagging, no mess to clean up. It doesn’t leave the toilet seat up (sorry guys), it doesn’t order you to put the toilet seat down, it doesn’t leave piles of dirty clothes all over the bedroom floor… It’s just pure perfection. The Cadbury Christ. No matter how rubbish the day has been, it always gets better when you realise you can curl up with chocolate at the end of it.

I’d love to know if you can get earthly delights in heaven. Imagine if you couldn’t. No chocolate in heaven… Now that’s a scary thought. There has to be chocolate in the afterlife. One life is not enough time to have consumed enough chocolate. More people would revert to faith if we know that the chocolate will be sweeter on the other side. For thine is the praline, the milk and the Belgian, for now and ever more, Amen.

 
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Posted by on July 20, 2012 in diet, food

 

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