It’s 6am and I’m heading off on a job in a bit but wanted to say a quick thank you all so so so much for the lovely comments yesterday. It made me cry again but in a good way. I wish you could all know what it’s like to have a moan and then have dozens of people send you lovely messages. It’s pretty amazing and not what I was expecting and, to be honest, not what I deserve.
Thank you especially to the people who told me about their dark patches – especially around money. It really helped.
It’s nearly midnight on a Friday night and I’m at my mum’s watching junk on Netflix and hating myself. I’ve spent the last week going through three shoe boxes of receipts dating back 18 months. All my spending habits there in black and white, on faded, scrunched up slips of paper.
When I cried my way through February, my month of Money, A Love Story, I vowed to change my ways and I did a bit but not enough. I got stuck into the Secret and figured that ‘abundant thoughts’ would translate into an abundant bank balance. They didn’t. Then there was two months of rejection therapy which made me so miserable I took to drink. Which is expensive. Then lovely trips to Italy with F**K It.
Oh dear. I’d written a lovely final post for F*K It. It was wise and wonderful, profound and witty. It’s now gone. Not sure what I did but I obviously didn’t save the draft. Oh well, F**K It – here’s a very hastily – and reluctantly – written post. Thing is, I don’t want F**k it to end. I really don’t.
I want to live in a F**K it world forever, preferably in Italy, drinking wine in the sun and listening to John and Gaia uttering funny, wise words which serve as an antidote to all the crap we listen to every day of our lives.
The crap that tells us that if we’re not pushing harder, doing more, striving to be thinner, fitter, richer, more successful, then we’re not doing it right.
As one friend put it, reading this book is like letting out a sigh of relief.
Hello hello! How’s everyone? Thanks so much for the lovely messages on Friday. Who knew that turning down a major opportunity would be such a popular move?! But really, thank you. I had a little cry when I read some of the comments, they were very kind.
But I do seem to be very emotional these days. I cried during a re-run of Sex and the City over the weekend. It was that episode where Carrie realises she’s spent all her money on shoes. It made me feel crap cos I don’t even have shoes to show for what I’ve spent my money on. Just hangovers and a frightening coffee habit. Then Bob Dylan’s ‘Blowin in the Wind’ came on the radio yesterday and I cried at that too. Not sure why. It was just pretty and the sun was shining.
A couple of months ago I said F**K It to something quite major and I didn’t tell you about it because I worried I’d made a big mistake. I was worried that it was a sure sign that self-help had made me crazy.
In April I was offered a book deal and I turned it down.
I was offered something that I’ve dreamt of my whole life and said ‘No, thanks.’
In yesterday’s post I faffed for about 1500 words trying to sum up the F**K It week. Then one of my new F**K It friends put up a comment on Facebook that summed it all up perfectly in a couple of paragraphs. Here is is. Thanks Charlotte von Roij for letting me share it:
Some time ago a friend of mine and me discovered the philosophy behind YOLO, you only live once. This probably makes you think about 16 year old girls who get drunk (’cause YOLO). But when you think of it, it’s true of course… You only get one life. But do you ever stop and think about what you really want out of life? I find that most of us just keep going and going. We push ourselves to work harder, make more money, buy bigger cars. It’s just never enough. Picture your life 10, 20, 30 years from now. What do you want to look back on? Are you really doing something that you like? Do you ever really relax? Or do you find yourself worrying about the most random things?
Well I’m back from my F**K It week and I don’t know what to say except it’s been emotional. Much more than I was expecting. I thought the week would involve standing in the sun shouting ‘F**K It’ with a bunch of strangers and then maybe doing some sort of embarrassing dancing. And maybe some tree-hugging.
As it turned out there was no dancing and only one tiny little bit of shouting, right on the last day. There wasn’t even much swearing, actually. In fact it was more deep and beautiful than boisterous and funny (the tone of the book) and that’s a good thing. Although I did hug a tree – but that was for a laugh. The tree did not laugh back, which is a relief.