Before and after whore.

I am a before and after slut. 

Ok, that sounded so.....nasty. And stupid? 

Anyhoos, love it, love it, love it. I love the whole concept of it. Whether it be about losing weight, getting a makeover, getting a life, getting the most fuck-awesome living space or, on a less ditzy note, getting out of the rut and becoming awesome, I love it all. It gives you hope that there is something which can be done to improve anything, anyone, and anywhere. 

What not to wear? Awesome. Tim Gunns show about makeovers? Delicious. All those interior design shows where they rip apart a boring blah house/room/apartment/car/caravan and make it unbefuckinglievable? I'm there, I'm sooooo there. 

So why is it that we can't do it ourselves. We get off on seeing these amazing transformations, whether in a show, a movie, a book and we lap it up, but when it comes time to do it in real life, it's seems so bloody difficult, nay, impossible to do so. 

The easiest answer would be that in real life, with real people problems, just getting through the day is tough enough, let alone trying to improve it. That's an easy and stupid way out. What's the point of your life if all you're doing is just existing. I've been there, and I still am. I whine and complain and compare my life, my appearance, my clothes, my job to everyone else's, but I can't be bothered to actually do something about it. 

Well, fuck that. 

I'm going to do it. I'm going to do that damned Arabic course which I've been talking about for YEARS and never did shit all about. I'm ordering the damn bed so that I can stop complaining about our current one. I'm going to bloody well get my facial hair removed before people think my sons monkey is coming to pick him up from nursery. 

Ok, that last bit was something which didn't need to be said. 

Wish me luck.