Probably the most depressing post in the world, ever

It's all very well understanding the Laws of the Universe - how it all works, what I am meant to be thinking, feeling and doing in order to get results - but putting it in to practice is another matter entirely.

What is even worse is knowing what works and what doesn't and choosing what doesn't.

This Friday night starts the week of Chanukah - the week of miracles. We are in the month of Sagittarius, which lends a little light-heartedness and breeziness to life, but it also means that we expect things to happen without much effort and at the sign of any challenges, we run.

This week we are meant to go the extra mile - put in the extra effort to generate the miracles for the coming year. And all I want to do is run. And hide, which is what I do best.

And as if I didn't have enough on my plate - selling things, watching the money run out, trying to find the strength to motivate and believe in myself, think about how I am going to push forward with work, buy cheap Christmas presents for people knowing that I will feel utterly unworthy when I receive their generous gifts - I have found something else to completely wreck my mind.

I've fallen in love.

Except of course, I haven't fallen in love, not really. I've met someone - once - spoken to them two or three times, and become totally besotted with them. It is and always will be totally unrequited. And even though I know full well that I have fallen in love with a total fantasy which is probably a long way from the reality, it hurts.

Not just because I feel jealous of whoever has had the pleasure of his attentions (because, oh dear sweet God, how did you manage to create a man in such perfect proportion? And why did you not use the same tape measure for all men? Answer me that, huh?), but also because I can imagine what type of woman he would be attracted to. Or rather I think there are a number of types of women that he would be attracted to... and I don't fit in to any of these types.

In short, in my current situation and state of mind, I can't blame any man for giving me a wide berth. I'm not taking good care of my body or my mind. I need more than a few new outfits, at least 3 months at the gym (preferably 9 to 5), a haircut and 4 hours of waxing, minimum. I need to find work so that I am not sitting around at home losing my self esteem but am losing my self esteem so much that I can barely talk to people about work. (oh boy, chicken, meet egg. Egg, meet chicken).

And then this man comes along and helps me to see where I would love to be... and how far it is from where I'm at.

So I need more than one miracle. I need a bagful of miracles. Unfortunately I feel so low with constantly beating myself up I think I need a miracle just to get off my arse and actually do something which might grant me a miracle.

Friday night is the lighting of the first candle of Chanukah. Last year I didn't bother with the candle lighting, but this year I decided to make the effort and invested in a Menora. It's not your standard candlestick, oh no. It's a set of little glass bulb oil lamps which you fill with olive oil, with wicks and floating stopper discs, and a strange wax stick-type-thing - the purpose of which is completely unknown to me. I have all of the meditations in Hebrew, and the exact times for lighting the candles for each of the 8 days of Chanukah. And no instructions on how to light them.

Perhaps the first miracle will be that I don't burn the house down....