Coach potato

The word for the week is: supine.  Essentially that's been me.  My life has shrunk to the path from bedroom to kitchen to living room (with a bit of bathroom thrown in).  We live in a flat: I am probably averaging 50 steps a day.

This is because when I try and go further than that - eg an ill-fated trip to work on Wednesday - I have to go home again.  Not because I've forgotten something, but because the world starts tilting and spinning in a tiresome way and I weave along, looking for all the world as if I've been hitting the festive egg-nog in a big way.  But I haven't.  Instead I appear to have an inner-ear infection that renders me a seeming drunk (people actually veer away from me (has its benefits on the tube)).  The problem is that if I'm relatively still, I feel okay - and thus a fraud and incredibly guilty for not being at work.  And I've missed dinner out with friends, my penultimate singing rehearsal, the work Christmas party and a chocolate fair, sigh.

A lesser known side effect of labyrinthitis seems to be the obligatory consumption of carbs.  I've looked at NHS Direct and it says nothing about this and yet it seems to be true.  I've essentially been surviving during the day on hot chocolate (with marshmallows and spray cream) and bread (loaded with either melted cheese or pate).  I hardly need tell you this is not good.  My jeans are feeling tighter and my bras are digging in, leaving wheals when I take them off.  My stomach is bloated, my skin is congested and I feel physically and spiritually bleurgh.  Winter weather plus illness seem to have stolen my resolve.  And yet that honeymoon is only (!) a little over 5 months away and I will have to be wearing evening dresses: I want to enjoy dressing up, not find it traumatic.

So sure, Christmas is coming but I don't have to fatten myself up.  I might not be as strict as in other months but I am veering dangerously to the other extreme; moderation would be a big step forward for me.  So, a fairly feeble plan.  Tomorrow we're at my mother's - some sort of halloumi dish and crumble with a choral performance in between the two.  So I need to concentrate on a modest and abstemious breakfast and lunch.  Sunday we're taking her out for lunch as her festive send-off as she goes to Australia with my brother, the Chav-in-law and my ex-sister-in-law - as well as all three neices and my nephew.  But next week I need to make soup to take in for lunch and concentrate on a good, carb-free week.  I'm out to dinner with my friend J on Monday - she has the appetite of a small mouse so this won't be too hedonistic, Tuesday I'm having my haircut so won't have a chance for dinner, Wednesday I'm singing so again, no dinner, Thursday we're going to see The Hobbit which I'm so excited about that I may not be able to eat anything and then Friday night we're off to Suffolk.  I'm not going to think beyond that - I need to plan and, more to the point, execute a plan for next week before I worry any further ahead.  My plan is essentially yoghurt, berries and seeds for breakfast, home-made carb-free soup and fruit for lunch, more fruit late afternoon to carry me through and a modest carb-free dinner.  Sounds so easy, doesn't it?  And yet it's not.

And blogger-land is sadly silent these days.  I don't know if it's the time of year or whether people are drifting away.  But I'm guilty too.  So I'm going to try and hold myself accountable by posting more regularly  if there's anyone out there, do let me know that you're hanging in there too.