I realize, that for me, I have been a little quiet. It’s been a tough week, and for once I won’t bore you to tears with the trials and tribulations of one Ajay Rochester other than to say I am surviving, one day at a time, really starting to work on the inside so the outside will be a true reflection of my love for my self.

This is some of what I have been doing…the other stuff I will save for later……much later.

And if you want to know how I did it…then message me and I will tell you.

Thanks Zoe, you may have just saved my life xx…

Day one of my 90 day transformation. Nothing like a clean slate, laying all your cards on the table, coming clean, baring all and any other cliches you’d like to use. Reality is I’m fat. This is why.

In 90 days I plan to change multiple elements of my life including physically, emotionally and financially.
I am simply a woman with NOTHING to lose doing ANYTHING she can to effect a GREAT change in her life.

Here I go…………..

Wooooohoooooooooooooooo and stay tuned!

Anyone else wanna make a change? Then come with!!!!…

If you go to a mechanic, drop the car in, pick it up a few days later with a new engine, you pay for services rendered and drive away, everyone governed by the normal rules of society. If you buy a dress from a shop, you pay either in cash or credit and you walk away using the very same item you paid for. You go to a motivation coach, you pay for their time and expertise. You spend an hour with a personal trainer, sweaty and happy to have invested in your own growth. You buy a book, you pay for the time, effort and expertise of the writer, right? If you don’t get paid for what you do, it’s not a job, it’s a hobby, a position I have found myself in recently, scratching my head how it could be legal to be this way.

Years ago, I made my living as a writer and celebrity. Magazines paid for exclusive interviews, photo shoots and or stories, written by one of their journalists or sometimes for a special fee, written by me.

I’m a great writer. Okay, I’m no James Joyce but I know my talent and I know my market – and that is relatability.…

A sweet lesson on patience.

A NYC Taxi driver wrote:

I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. ‘Just a minute’, answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90′s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940′s movie.

By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.

There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard
box filled with photos and glassware.

‘Would you carry my bag out to the car?’ she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.

She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.…

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