Let them eat cake

So.  It's all fallen as flat as a Victoria Sponge removed from the oven unjudiciously early.  I raced to Victoria Station to meet P ready for our tasting.  I had - I'm afraid - fallen ill of that common dieters' foible, the 'oh sod it' mentality which meant I had had a piece of a colleague's homemade chocolate cake AND a small frappuccino light that day already.  Well, I was going to be eating at least 6 flavours of cake, it was pretty pointless, right? 

And then it all started unravelling.  P had been at Victoria for almost an hour and we were about to jump on a train to Sarf London when we discovered that the couple booked in before us still hadn't arrived and weren't contactable.  They couldn't be told that they'd missed their slot through their own inefficiency, oh no, we had to miss OUR slot because of their selfishness.  Added to my feelings of guilt came a pounding headache and the realisation of P's (quite jusified) irritation.  We decided to skip the rush hour and go for something to eat where we calmed down over a glass of wine.  I resisted pudding with some effort - knowing that I'd rather bodged WI for no good reason I wanted to go beserk - and then had a small frozen yoghurt from a van outside.  The final nail in the coffin?

I certainly didn't WI on Wednesday - and now our re-scheduled tasting is Monday so I can't see the point of doing it next Wednesday either.  I'm trying not to let it all slide as a result - but today was another day when someone was leaving and brought in home-made cake.  I had a piece but have paid the price as I got the sugar withdrawal shakes on the way home and had to buy a mini bag of jelly babies to get me home.  All this is looking pretty dismal.  I'm pleased that I haven't used it as an excuse to eat anything I want - apart from 2 pieces of cake and 6 jelly babies, I've not gone off-diet - but that's not enough to bring me results on the Scales of Doom.  In fact I am frightened that my weight is continuing to go up whilst I stand by, feeling helpless (and scoffing of course).

But I did Bodypump today.  It was very hard.  I couldn't do the tricep dips off the step at all really, my knees really hurt in the squats section and by the end my legs were like jelly and my arms were unable to support themselves even hanging by my sides.  Getting up or down from seated or on stairs hurts already - I fear tomorrow.  I felt dismal in the class and am not sure if I'm going back yet.  £20 a month for one weekly 45 min class - when I am able to go - which I'm pathetically useless at, feel inadequate, self-conscious and awkward and which causes me pain, I'm just not sure.