We had my niece, Mollie, with us last week on half term, so that meant being at mum’s for a whole 7 days, with all that entailed – big fridge, snacks, fish finger sandwiches etc etc. Right now it feels like I’m sat in a confessional, not typing on a laptop. And if I wrote down all the ‘sins’ I’d committed since my last post, well there’s probably not a blog big enough, to be honest. Craftily sneaked into a week of general pigging out, was a piss-up before and after the UEFA Cup 2nd leg last Thursday, so I guess all I really need to say is – no I haven’t lost any weight this week, and that’s for the second week running, which is not good.
The size 12 jeans have gone back in the wardrobe for the time being, before they start gathering dust, hanging on the picture frame. As I’ve said many times before, it takes a lot of effort and patience to lose weight, but a fraction of a second to put any of it back on. A week of eating basically what I want, is going to take about a month to rectify, and that’s only if the Chicken Stir Fry Monster kidnaps me and locks me in my apartment until the Spring. Actually, the kidnap will have to start tomorrow, as I’m “on it” tonight on a bit of a works do over @ Jury’s Inn on the Albert Dock. Free wine (I think), so Tuesday’s a goner. The good thing about a guaranteed hangover, though, is knowing I won’t be able to face eating anything tomorrow. Not the best diet tip in the world, but it’ll have to do for this week.
One thing I’ve noticed about the fortnight’s excesses, is how intolerant I have become with bread. I love bread. I don’t know anyone who doesn’t love bread. But since September 1st, I’ve drastically cut down on it, to the point where I just never buy it, unless it’s in pre-packed sandwich form, in preparation for a hangover (yes, tomorrow is taken care of already…). I noticed the impact straight away. Within a few weeks of not eating it, I was less bloated, my belly had receded markedly, and I didn’t feel nearly as sluggish as I usually did.
As with most of the new routine, it wasn’t a problem sticking to it, as long as I was in my apartment, where I can only eat what I’ve bought in. Every time I went to mum’s, however, or out for dinner with friends, it was very difficult to avoid bread, because it’s everywhere you look. And once you have one slice, you’ve got to have another. This last fortnight, I’ve probably eaten more bread than I have in six months, and it’s made me feel rubbish. On Saturday night, for instance, as I was “builder-sitting” at The Olds while they were away, I was too lazy to go to the shop and get something healthy in for tea, and because I’d been sinful all week anyway, I just figured I’d write the weekend off and start back on the diet today. Hence, fish finger sandwiches and cheese on toast was definitely allowed, as I vedged in front of the Alibi channel for 8 hours straight.
By the time I went to bed, after Match Of The Day, I felt heavy, constipated and just generally very lethargic. And this was without a drop of alcohol passing my lips. During the night, I had stomach ache, and spent a good part of the early hours of Sunday sitting on the loo. And that was the bread.
This week, then, I have to detox, big time. Fruit, fruit and more fruit. And tons of water. I’ll always love bread, but bread no longer loves me. It’s one of those relationships I’ll always look back on and think “oh we were so happy together, but now the trust is gone, and we’ll never get that back….”.
Sometimes, you’ve just got to move on.
Things I’ve Learned This Week
1. 7-year olds make you do bad stuff
Mollie’s such a bad influence on me. She makes me go to pubs, she makes me eat bread and fish fingers, she makes me eat ice cream and she tells me that cheese is the best food in the world. When she grows up, she’s going to be Nigella Lawson.
2. Hearing from NatWest
NatWest and I have been embroiled in a ‘thing’ for about four years. They tell me my mortgage payment is one amount, when it’s actually another, then they send me letters to say I’ve defaulted when I haven’t. When I pay them stuff, they lose the money, then when they find it, they charge me for them having lost it. As if that isn’t enough, they then admit that they have made lots of mistakes, then charge me again for writing me a letter to tell me of their error. They also charge a million pounds a minute for calling their Customer Abuse line, where I’m put on hold for three days while they locate someone who knows nothing about my ‘case’, to come on the line and patronise me in a foreign language until my phone credit runs out.
In November last year, I actually sent them a shirt off my back, because it was the only thing they hadn’t taken from me. This morning, I got a note from them saying “thank you for your letter of 26th November….”, to which I have replied, this afternoon, “actually, that was a Primark T shirt, not a letter. Don’t tell me you’ve lost that, as well…”
I cannot escape them. They own me, they torture me, and they have removed all my basic human rights, so now I am just a shell. And Julian Assange reckons he’s got it tough? Pah.
Things I’m Dreading This Week
1. Getting fat again
I need this bread to shift, soonish. I feel so heavy and gravitational, and I need to get back into the routine. It’s all my own doing, obviously, so I’m looking into hypnosis, to try and make me have more willpower and stuff. I am the strongest person I know. I am also the weakest. Give me an impossible task to do, and I’ll cross hell and high water to do it well. Show me a glass of wine, or a cheese sandwich, and I’d kill puppies, just to get my hands on them.
This Week I’ve Mostly Been Watching…
1. Sons of Anarchy
I made it! I reached the end of Season 1, but only because the sneaky bastards decided to start writing decent drama in the last three episodes. I was all ready to bin it and move on to something like “Suits” or “The Real Housewives Of Clacton”, but then they dragged me back in again and now I have to watch Season 2. Sigh…
I always watch the whole box set at least once a year, and that time is now. Even after 30 years (no waaaaaaay!!!), it still stands up as a bloody good TV show. The writing’s top notch (Richard Carpenter, one of the best scriptwriters this country has ever produced…), the music was amazing (Clannad, say no more) and the cast obviously had a riot making it. The names who appeared in it, also made compelling viewing – Nickolas Grace, Anthony Valentine, John Nettles, Ray Winstone, Robert Addie, Phil Davis, Richard O’Brien, John Rhys Davies etc etc, and of course the two Robs, Michael Praed and Jason Connery. It’s easily the best interpretation of the Robin Hood legend, by miles, so if you’ve never seen it, or just fancy a trip down memory lane, get it. Seasons 1 & 2 – “The Praed Years” – are the best, not that I’m biased in any way. But all of it’s worth a watch – the production was streets ahead of its time, and still knocks spots off most of today’s Saturday night TV fare. Visionary!
The Stats Bit:
Month 1: 8.75lbs
Month 2: 5.25lbs
Month 3: 1lb
Month 4: 0.5lbs
Month 5: 3lbs
Week 22: 2.5lbs
Week 23: 1.75lbs
Week 24: plus 2.75lbs
Week 25: 0lbs
Total after 175 days: 20lbs