Lardbusting

Day 1 of lardbusting. Gave away some chocolate Easter cakes to some people in the office. “Ooh what are these for, is it your birthday?” one of them wanted to know. No it pigging well isn’t!

At lunchtime I had to put a cheque in the bank so walked to town and back. I went the short way, but hey, at least my legs moved!

Later on I glumly wondered whether walking to the canteen to get a cappuccino would use up all the calories said cappuccino would inflict on me… and decided it wouldn’t. So didn’t.

Huh?

Oh my good grief! I haven’t weighed myself for two weeks and I’ve put on half a stone!! How in the name of crap did that happen?!

I haven’t eaten any more than normal so it must be purely down to not exercising. Bleurgh, I’m going to have to unearth my trainers from the dust and do some huffing and puffing.

Suffolk

Early morning. I dragged myself out of bed after only a few hours sleep, kissed a very sleepy Charles on the forehead, and pointed Molly, my car, in the direction of Suffolk – home of my friend Rachel. I felt very unprepared – my phone was low on battery, I only had a biscuit with me for breakfast and no water to drink, I had little petrol in the car, and hadn’t checked the tyres either, nor was there any windscreen wash ready to squirt over my windscreen if it got dirty. Quite unlike me as I do tend to worry if I'm not fully prepared for every eventuality! But I needed to get going before the roads filled up with traffic and so pushed all my worries to the back of my mind and just drove, hoping all the while for a petrol station where I would be able to deal with everything except charging the phone. As it turned out every petrol station I came across was either on the wrong side of a dual carriageway, miles off a motorway turning, or invisible until I was just past it! But, despite being convinced that my tyres were going to pop and the car run out of petrol, I really enjoyed the drive... once east of London and off the North Circular the roads were empty, with more squashed pheasants on the roads than there were cars, the sun was shining, and I could just put my foot down and motor along.

I managed to get all the way to Stowmarket without getting lost or spluttering to a stop. Phew! Once in the town I asked directions to Rachel's road and ended up parked in a supermarket car park. I turned my phone on and rang Rachel who came to find me. We found that I had very conveniently parked only two minutes from her house (and had actually been just by her house when I was asking directions – I should have just shouted out of the car window and she would have heard me – save on phone calls!)

It was so nice to see her again, we haven’t met up in absolutely ages. Not since my birthday last year in fact, and there were far too many other people around then to have a proper chat with her. So all through the afternoon we chatted and chatted until our throats were sore, and then chatted some more! She cooked a lovely meal of salmon, roast potatoes and honey roast parsnips, with two puddings and Battenburg cake for tea. My tummy was very happy, I can tell you!

I was quite sad to have to leave. However, I didn’t really want to drive home in the dark because that makes me sleepy, and it was already 6.30pm with sunset looming and a two and a half hour drive ahead of me, so I had to go… but could easily have stayed chatting all night.

Friday Night is Nudie Night

Every Friday night I get treated to a few minutes of nude dancing by Charles! We come home from tango and puff our way up the stairs to his flat, then I flag out on the bed whilst he turns the shower on and starts stripping his clothes off. I quite like this part of the evening! He does have rather a good body – fabulous thighs – and I get treated to a show of muscle flexing and toe pointing, twisting and posing, all at my request. Sometimes he pulls me up off the bed to try tango moves out on me. Naked.

What a lucky girl I am!

My Morning Routine

7.30am I vaguely become aware that the radio is on. Grooh, late for work.

Roll out of bed and stagger to the loo. I can do the whole ‘going to the loo’ bit without ever opening my eyes… I roll over the edge of the bed and stand up so that the bed is to my left, then walk forwards along the side of the bed with left arm outstretched until I feel the bedpost. This I swing around until I hit the bed again, then walk forwards to the door and grope for the handle. Open the door and slide my left arm along the wall until I find the door frame to the bathroom. Swing around the door frame and into the bathroom. Shuffle forwards 3 paces, turn around, sit down. Right hand out finds the loo roll. Stand up. Then do everything in reverse back into my bedroom again. Pyjamas off and fling them in the direction of the bed.

Only then do I need to open my eyes in order to hunt for some knickers.

Grope through pile of clothes on chair to find something wearable. Top and bottom will hopefully match. If they don’t I will go to work looking very odd, as my new policy is to wear all my slightly worn clothes before I pull anything fresh out of my wardrobe, due to my ‘slightly worn’ pile reaching Everest-like heights.

Stagger back to bathroom and clean teeth.

Stagger to kitchen and pull lunch out of fridge. Usually this ends up being just a pot of houmous and a yoghurt, as my planned ‘preparing a healthy lunch the night before’ routine has never yet actually got off the ground.

Pick up handbag and shoes on way back through sitting room. Slide feet into shoes and pick up coat from floor.

Stagger out to car.

Drive to work. Initially I drive at 60 mph as I am trying to become less of a speed-freak, but within 30 seconds I am doing 90 mph as I should have been at work by now and everyone else is just driving so dang slow!

Turning off the motorway I lick my finger and rub last night’s mascara from underneath my eyes.

Arrive at work and try to tiptoe upstairs without anyone spotting me. Phew – my boss isn’t in yet!

Switch computer on, spread papers across my desk, and attempt to look as though I’ve been sat there, hard at work, for simply hours.

Notice, in the mirror on my desk, that I have merely smeared last night’s mascara further round my face, it hasn’t actually disappeared… so wet my finger again and have another rub. My hair is doing a pretty good impression of an electrocuted brillo pad, so pull a comb out of my desk drawer and drag it through my hair.

My boss arrives. “Good morning!” she calls, merrily.

Sigh and stretch as though I’ve been working forever and need a break, and wander off in search of coffee and breakfast.

Whole routine from waking up to sitting at desk – 40 minutes! Not bad!

* * * * *

Evening: I just put my dressing gown on and it smells of Charles - made my heart go all twangy!

Enchanting Flesh Loss Product!

You know those spam emails offering you willy-lengthening products, free naked housewives, etc. I've just received one trying to sell me a diet pill and it has obviously, and hilariously, been written by a non-English speaker, probably using one of those internet translation sites:

End the annoying obesity now!

*** - the up-to-the-moment and most enchanting flesh-loss product.

Do you realize redundant body kilos kill very much people for every new year? We know that you hate the unattractive appearance of those people. Moreover, you can't resist an assault of your fatal eating habits. Here *** comes, the later product for the reduction of your body's extra weight. Pay you attention to some notes received from our customers:

"One day I was told about *** the media by and I was really effected by the information. I had tried to take it, and my wife said to me that I look very good now, 4 months later. 32 pounds off and it is still far to an end. And you know, it's rather hot in our bedroom now."

*** helps your brain to understand that you doesn't have such a great need for the constant eating. Great thanks to its powerful original formula!

(link) Elicit more information.

Erm, yes - enchanting! And I think his 'customer' could do with a few English lessons too!

New Shoes

Me and Charles have new tango shoes!

I went round to his flat tonight with our package from the postman. We opened our boxes, pushed aside the rustly tissue paper, and pulled them out. I was as excited as Imelda Marcos on a visit to Jimmy Choo - couldn't stop squeaking! They are fab! Mine are sparkly and strappy, Charles' are classic and just perfect.

I can't wait until we go dancing in them!

Happy Chocolate

I just tried a form of reverse psychology on myself without realising. Someone I work with came up to me and asked me to do a last minute (and very boring) job that needs to be done by first thing tomorrow morning. I thought "Oh crap!" but, as he's a nice person, I offered him a Cadburys Mini Egg anyway. So he went away happily crunching his egg, and I felt happy at his visit to my desk because I had done a nice thing. Happy instead of pissed off... how about that! I shall now just have to keep a never-ending supply of chocolate eggs on my desk to hand out to the never-ending queue of people who come and ask me to do crap, then my world will be forever rosy. Except that I know I would eat every egg myself and so continually be buying more and then continually be eating more ad infinitum... so perhaps that's not a very realistic idea after all.

I've just realised - most of my blog posts seem either to be about Charles or about chocolate. Easy to tell which things are most important in my life!

Men and Computers

The things you have to do to get a man's attention! Lying in Charles' bed watching him type away on his computer at 3 o'clock this morning, and wishing he would come to bed and cuddle me, I resorted to picking up my Blackberry and emailing him: "Come to bed, I want your willy!"

It didn't work! :-(

Easter Eggs, Easter Bunnies...

Ever since I was a little girl I've had a weight problem. At least, looking back at photos now I can see that I didn't - I wasn't fat, I wasn't even chunky - but my mother had me on constant diets and managed to convince me that I was a big fat heiffer and should be ashamed of my waistless child's body. So perhaps unsurprisingly I've always had rather a guilty relationship with any food that isn't green and boring. Things are different now - I really do have a big, bouncing belly - however I'm still scared of food... so scared in fact that I have to eat every piece of chocolate or cake that I ever come across so that it won't keep looking at me and taunting me!

So it is with trepidation that I enter supermarkets at this time of year. By this time of year I mean Easter. And by Easter I mean January through to April, such is the extended calendar of supermarkets. By late January my local supermarket had Easter eggs on sale. At the end of February the Lindt gold bunnies appeared. And today I spotted piles of Cadburys Easter cakes in all their tempting glory when I went to fill my car up with petrol. The stupid thing is, most of these items aren't even particularly nice (Lindt gold bunnies excepted!). They are made from cheap chocolate that is so thin you can almost see your hand through it, they are amazingly overpriced for the amount of chocolate you get, and an ordinary bar of Green & Blacks milk chocolate tastes far nicer. Yet something about them still calls out to me! Maybe it's seeing them all stacked up, row upon row disappearing into the horizon; maybe it's the egg/bunny shape; maybe it's because they are not available all year round and so become a 'grab it while you can' item. Dunno! I just wish they would go on sale for Easter week only, where they belong!

Oh well, time to eat my tea now... if I can fit anything else into my belly after the whole box of Easter cakes I've just scoffed! Grooh!