Burgers are why I couldn't be a vegetarian

The other day I had a really tasty burger at a new local place. They grind actual steak, they bake their own gluten free buns, they top it with whatever you like (I had camembert and mushrooms, my husband had beetroot and caramelised onion) and the result is delicious. We've been eating vegetarian at home for the past few months, which has been really good. It feels healthy, less expensive and better environmentally to not eat meat. Then, the other day I had a craving for a really yummy burger. It's happened before too when I've dabbled in vegetarianism. I don't know why burgers are my weakness. I know they're not the epitome of culinary meat-arts. So two things come out of this: 1) I can recommend a really good, new local burger place (if you live in the same city as me); and 2) I will accept myself as a 90% vegetarian (which probably means not telling people I am, except here where it's anonymous, because often people say you can't be vegetarian by halves, or thereabouts).

Wavering self-belief

I had a flash of self-doubt or an absence of ambition or something this week. It was rather like a dizzy spell. It came on and suddenly I thought, 'What if I can't be a writer?' I had the horrible feeling that I had been wasting my spare time for the past two years and was wasting this year of leave (from full-time work). I dreaded deeply (and still do) the possibility of never being published after putting in so much work to write my stories. After the spell was over, like dizziness, there was a lingering wisp of unsureness about myself and my choices. Then I went to work at the arts college and I walked into a film and television production class. The lecturer was saying, by coincidence, 'You have to make the film because until you do you're not a filmmaker. You don't know that you can do it, until you do it.' That statement restored my self-belief and optimism. They still waver occasionally, but I think that's natural and probably healthy - though why it's healthy I'll have to explore some other time.

The benefits of Higher Education

I was reflecting on the differences between my new job working with late teens and adults at a technical college and my previous job of teaching children in a public school classroom. The benefits are many! I don't have to sit on the floor or use paint, papier maché or liquid glue, which means I can wear decent clothes to work. Also, I can have food, get a drink, use the bathroom or get fresh air when I need it rather than waiting for a bell to ring. I actually feel like a self-determining adult for a change! Last Friday I almost told some students to watch their language and turn their music down, but I stopped myself because they are also adults, surrounded by adults, who can manage their own behaviour. And yesterday I ran a workshop for which I had ample time to prepare, students who were interested in the topic showed up, they thanked me afterwards and I won't have to meet with their parents or spend hours of my own time writing a report about each one! The new job is not entirely perfect; there are some personalities to deal with and some institutional ins and outs to navigate, but overall it's quite a positive change.

Graduation!

The other night my husband and I graduated from marriage counselling. She said we had done exceptionally well, so well, in fact, that she wished she had filmed our sessions to use in training. So, after showing us two final maintenance techniques we were sent on our way. We have come to a place of greater communication with more openness and honesty and creativity between us. It's not necessarily going to be all calm, easy floating along on the gentle ripples of life, but at least now we should have the tools and knowledge to batten down the hatches when we need to.

To finish or not to finish?

I am reading a brick-sized book at the moment and I think I'm almost defeated. I used to have a rule that I had to finish any book I started, but when I told my mum about it she pointed out that there are so many great books out there, why spend time reading not-great ones. Now I'm getting bogged down in the middle of an enormous tome. I enjoy most of the book, but there are a litany of reasons I'm starting to give myself not to continue: I've renewed it twice already, I don't really care about any of the characters, I don't feel like I'm learning anything (personal or about writing) from the book, it's so big that I can't read it in bed, I've read another quick book just for a break from the drama of this book and I have a book club book I'm supposed to read. But then this little, stubborn voice says, 'You don't want to give up on it, do you?' In principle I like finishing things I start, even if they have no greater significance than my own principles. In this case that's kind of annoying.

Adults-only menu

My husband and I did something fun the other night, which I would recommend to other couples. It was homework from the counsellor, but was more enticing than what she generally gives us to do. Perhaps the best assignment ever. She was making a point about how couples often have a fairly limited repertoire of 'moves', which can lead to boredom and lack of appreciation and creativity together. So, she challenged us to write down twenty intimate activities that fall between individual fantasy/daydreaming and that ultimate, culminating act (any and all activities, not just the ones you already do). I'm pleased to say that my husband and I got thirty ideas on our list and that it led naturally to talking about what we would like to make more of an effort to do for each other. The only thing that slightly diminished the romance of the moment was my husband's use of Excel to make the list (he's an accountant). There's nothing sexy about Excel, but it was organised.