Life's Too Short

Recently I've been reflecting on the things that really make me happy. I've been consciously attempting to make my life as pleasurable as possible and the phrase 'Life's Too Short' comes up again and again.

1. Life is too short to spend all day at work
2. Life is too short to run after unavailable men
3. Life is too short to set ourselves unrealistic, unattainable targets.

No, I haven't suddenly turned into the Dalai Lama. It's just that this week I've been on half term holiday and had time to think, which is always dangerous. I also had two friends staying and one of them (who works at my old school) has had the same realisation that I had six months ago. School is making her, and many of her colleagues, miserable. The pressure is just too much and she is feeling anxious all the time. This anxiety is manifesting itself in many different ways, but the upshot of it is that she doesn't feel that she can enjoy anything. She commented on how happy I seemed and I think it was perhaps a bit of a wake up call for her – that she could also change her situation if she chooses. But seeing her unhappiness suddenly brought everything into sharp focus and made me realise that actually, I am so much happier here and that moving here to Bucharest was the right decision for me. It was as if she was the reflection of the way I used to be – exhausted and burnt out. Of course, it's been hard adjusting and things still aren't perfect. But at the end of the day, I wasn't enjoying the stresses of the job I was in and so I changed it. Life is too short to be miserable. It's common sense really, isn't it?

Talking of misery, I also realised this week that I had to let Hot FB Guy go. At last minute, he started back-peddling on his offer to come over and visit this week and asked if he could come at Christmas instead. Something inside me just snapped. I realised that the Skype sessions and all contact with him had to stop. Torturing myself over a man who doesn't feel the same way about me as I do about him was just making me feel wretched. He was the last tie I had to cut with the UK, the last thing holding me back. He was actually making me enjoy my time here less. So, last night, I wrote him an email in which I said that he couldn't come and see me because I am seeing someone else. And it wasn't a lie. I am seeing someone else, a very nice Romanian man with a wicked sense of humour who really makes me laugh. This guy likes me. He calls and texts all the time. He brings me flowers and tells me I'm beautiful. Hot FB Guy being in my head is not an option right now – he would only mess things up for me. It's definitely time to move on. Life is too short to run after unavailable men. It's common sense really, isn't it?

Unattainable goals are the last thing that I needed to get rid of in my life. The main manifestation of my new positive attitude is the fact that I've given up my diet and I'm back on the bread. Yes, I was skinnier last year. But I was also really unhappy. And when I first moved here, after a summer of eating big dinners with friends and having little time to exercise there were a few moments where, desperately trying to squeeze into my clothes from last year, I would vow to cut back on what I was eating and swear off bread, desserts, wine and pasta. In essence, all the things that make me happy. I stuck to this regime for a couple of weeks but I still felt rubbish about myself. The turning point, however was on a weekend up in Transylvania. Our mountain guide, saying that we would get us lunch, took us to a bakery and returned from the counter with a large piece of what can only be described as a savoury doughnut topped with sour cream, garlic and cheese. The old, on-a-diet Siani hesitated. But only for a second. Unsurprisingly, considering the ingredients, it was one of the most delicious things I have ever eaten.

From that moment on, my viewpoint on food changed. Unfortunately, or fortunately, however you look at it, I'm living in a country where the local dishes consist of polenta, doughnuts, stew and sausages. I figure if I try to slim down to a size six, I'm fighting a losing battle. So I packed the diet in and relegated my old clothes to the back of the wardrobe. I'm swimming three times a week (something I now have time to do and which I really enjoy) and walking to the Metro every day so the weight should come off soon. But if it doesn't, so what? Being a bit curvier is no bad thing. People on FB have even complimented me on my new figure (including the size of my boobs, bizarrely) and said that I look nicer now I look like I've eaten a few pies. Off course, I'm not advocating binge eating, merely not starving yourself as I was doing last year. Yes, I was thin. But I also had really bad skin, caused, I'm sure by the no dairy, no wheat diet I was on. And probably the stress of my job. The way I see it, there is too much delicious food in the world to deny yourself. Living on no-cheese omelettes and steamed vegetables was no fun at all. Now that's definitely something I should have realised before.

I'm sorry if all this sounds trite and happy-clappy. It's just that this week I've had time to think, get some sleep and figure stuff out. I'm sure my next post will be less upbeat. My new found serenity, I'm sure, will soon disappear. It might all go tits-up with the Romanian after all, and I'll be back to square one. I'm sure I'll soon be binge eating doughnuts with jam and sour cream and crying into my glass of local wine.

But maybe, just maybe, I'm finally learning to walk in heels...