Letter to myself (how narcissistic of me lol)

I am sitting here on my couch, after binge watching UnReal for a few hours and inhaling half a tube of cookie dough, generally hating myself and feeling stuck.

This is a hard time of year for me as in my business, the summer period is slow on work, and all the contracts for next year are up for renewal – no lack of anxiety there.

Throw in the fact that the tax man hasn’t been overly kind this year when I may or may not have been hoping on a refund to tide me over across the break, plus a recent break-up, and I certainly have felt better in my life.

I want to write. I want to work. I want to create a big arse plan for taking my business to the next level, for inspiration to strike, for it to come together and be ready to be put into action. I want to draw up a big fat financial plan and be able to say ‘see – even though I have no money, and the next few months are going to be slow, I can do it – I have a PLAN’. Even if it is only to myself.

And yet, I sit here. I eat a bit more cookie dough, chased with some twisties. I watch another episode of UnReal.

Every now and again, I snap it off and march off to find that business planner I bought or open my financials from the last year or open a document just like this one to at least write something for my much neglected blogs. To achieve something.

Each time, I have faltered. Staring at the paper, the blank page on the screen with the cursor blinking defiantly at me, the spreadsheet full of numbers which saw me nearly in tears at the accountant just yesterday seeming to sneer at me.

Except for this time.

What is it that has enabled me to start typing these words?

To be honest, I think I am just fed up.

Sick and tired.

Well and truly over it.

Of wallowing.

Of worrying.

Of stressing.

Get the fuck over it Amanda.

You hear me.


Just pick yourself up, brush yourself off and give yourself a break – shit has been hard after all – but then get back in the game.

Only you can change your situation.

And as much as comforting yourself with cookie dough and online television may feel good, you know it doesn’t really.

It just leaves you feeling like this.

You can do better.

So do better.

Go and kick some arse.

Show those fuckers who you really are – including the tax office. You don’t need them or their stinking refund.



PS – remember this meme, this meme always makes  you laugh, and you know its true – well, not the face eating part, but the rest. Stay the course! x