The Cookie Monster

I am so hungry these days. The only thing I can come up with is the fact that my period is due to start today (it's getting very erratic so I'm not sure when exactly). It means going back to those days of watching the clock for the next time I can eat: it's not a fun way to live and makes resisting temptation all the more agonising. Still, needs must - and hopefully it won't last much longer.

But my preparation paid off on at least one occasion - we had a team meeting with lunch provided. They were only horrid sarnies but I knew that being captive amongst so much food would be tough. The previous night I was out, but got home at 9.40pm and then made cauliflower cheese soup (heavy on the veg, light on the (light) cheese). It made me late to bed but it was worth it. I erupted from the meeting room at 2pm and heated my soup straight up. No manky sandwich passed my lips...

Lest I sound too virtuous, I am going to my mum's on Monday and intend to take her one of the wonderful Ben's Cookies (and one for me too, of course). I'll have to be very careful for the rest of the week but I kind of feel I earnt it. Beth and I were out at GBK last night after dancing and they burnt our burgers - they only brought us chips for free as an apology! And after my careful ordering of a no-bun burger with the lowest cal cheese on the menu! Reader, I ate three. I thought that was impressive. Beth ate none - that sort of discipline is why she's so slender I guess. I didn't even feel too bad that I was not as virtuous as her, I felt it was a private triumph and gave myself a mental pat on the back.

My mum has certainly earnt a treat (and I know, food shouldn't be an emotional response but I've got a long way to go there). She's been treated incredibly badly by my shallow, venal, arrogant and self-centred brothers this week. Without going into the whole sorry tale, brother 2 gave her a blast of incredible vitriol, spite and anger as he thought she'd criticised the Chav-in-law. I detect the malicious hand of the CIL here but my brother still wrote all the spiteful things in the email that reduced her to tears. And Brother 1 stuck up for him. If I had the money, I'd send a private detective off to watch CIL on her annual week's clubbing in Ibiza this summer (you really can't buy her class - although she tries, but it's spend on knee high tranny boots, micro minis and teeny tops to show off her newly purchased boobs) and catch her shagging around to force my brother to dump her. I have to say that I have been very upset by his spite - because I've witnessed my mother's distress principally. Sadly, I have some very dodgy genes in my make-up, not just those that seem determined to keep me as a fattie either.

On biscuits vs cookies (for Debbie): I am sure there's an actual definition somewhere. The word 'cookie' came here from the US I think but for me a biscuit is crisp and a cookie is squidgy. I go for squidgy everytime - which may explain why I AM squidgy!

Three things to feel grateful for yesterday:
1. Three compliments at our dance class about how good I was ("a natural"). Even after I had practically knocked someone over like a skittle by going the wrong way in one. It's freaky, it's geeky but I do enjoy it! We even had a fractionally energetic dance last - 'sprigs of laurel'.
2. Beth - she listened to me rant about my brothers for ages and made me feel much better.
3. Having a value system so alien to that of my brothers.

Planning a chilly trip to admire snowdrops on Sunday. I am a wild, wild girl.... Whatever hedonistic extravagences you're up to, have a good weekend.

PS Curlygurl - your comment made me laugh out loud, great gag!