When carbs attack

I know, I know, radio silence = spectacular falling off the wagon, right? Well I’m still mooching along on my wagon, being overtaken by arthritic snails and sauntering tortoises. It’s just that work has been so unspeakably busy that I’ve been working all hours and without even time to go to the loo.

So, in the 10 days since my last confession, I mean update, what have I been up to? We had our weekend staying with friends which was lovely. Not entirely sure what carb-free diet my friend was on though as breakfast was buttermilk pancakes, fruit bread, cereal and sourdough toast. Determined not to be a nightmare fussy guest, I had 2 pancakes with the merest, smearest of lemon curd, a piece of fruit bread and butter and some strawberries. I expected to feel very hungry very quickly but I had NOT expected to have the sort of violent hypoglycaemic episode I usually only get after a really intense sugar binge. I thought I was going to pass out (in Waitrose - oh, the middle class horror!); I was shaking, confused, clammy and my heart was going like the clappers. The silver lining of this was to bring vividly home to me that even if a carb-free diet isn’t causing me to lose weight as I’d like, it is much healthier for me. I was astonished that non-sugar could cause this sort of reaction.

What with that and a very restrained 2 pancakes (teeny bit of sugar, a LOT of lemon) on Shrove Tuesday (no ill effects other than watching P eat every mouthful of his in the manner of a greedy Labrador), I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised that it was a STS on the old Scales of Doom on Wednesday. Not surprised but always disappointed.

This weekend I went to the National Wedding Show with my lovely friend and bridesmaid, R. She gave up a day with her very beloved son for this and I’m truly grateful. She made me engage with dresses – as you know, something I seem to have become almost phobic about - and was generally very encouraging and helpful. I had a very intense one-to-one session with Charlotte from Rock My Wedding where I came within a hair’s breadth of crying all over her as I confessed that I didn’t feel ‘good enough’ to be a bride (mainly thin enough but I’m also too short and too old to really fulfil what I think ‘a bride’ ought to be. And more, what I fear wedding dress designers think I ought to be). Charlotte was lovely and very reassuring and has come up with a couple of contacts to smooth the process for me.

And after a 5.20am start to the working week yesterday and me only managing 2 ½ hours sleep Sunday night as a consequence, I now appear to be succumbing to a cold that I’ve been successfully fighting off for weeks. My throat feels like it’s been attacked by a cheesegrater and the 10 minute walk from the tube to the office was exhausting and interminable. I have to pull myself together as we’re off to Devon with friends this weekend and I want to enjoy every minute.