I know it’s in the right direction but ½ lb seems the very definition of being satisfied with small mercies. It would, in fact, be a whole lot easier to be a whole lot more thankful for bigger mercies. I would go so far as to say that there is a direct correlation between the thankfulness and the size of the mercy.
Having said that, I might eat my words after my abasement to SoD (Scales of Doom) this week. It’s been a trying week – physically and psychologically. And whilst SoD is very happy to ignore sterling work, it pounces (metaphorically admittedly) on any evidence of transgression. And I’ve transgressed.
I’ll spell out the evidence of my syn sinning.
· Exhibit 1: Okay, it was the tube strike. I was SORELY provoked. It normally takes me c50 mins to commute to and from work: Reader, it took me 2 hours 45 mins to get in and 3 hours 20 mins to get home. I live around 12 miles away from the office. Ask yourself: what would you do? What would anyone do? Yes, I stuck a bottle of wine in the freezer and drank just under half a bottle. And as I’d had to skip lunch due to a very long meeting, I had a Boots Shapers bar and small bag of diet popcorn on my way home. Which probably stopped my passing out or eating a fellow passenger but is distinctly not SW friendly.
· Exhibit 2: Saturday. I was making crab linguine – we had a nice bottle of wine to go with it. There was a kitchen/ingredient malfunction which meant that the pasta was as tempting and understated as a particularly fishy cat food. We finished the wine whilst disposing of the evidence and rustling up something else from a dearth of choice. This required red wine. I must therefore have drink ¾ of a bottle (husband valiantly taking on the lion’s share).
· Exhibit 3: Sunday. We had friends come across for lunch. I chose really carefully but I had a pudding. Worse than that, dear Reader, it was a poor pudding. Is there anything more annoying than calorie consumption that’s not worth it? It was a chocolate and raspberry pot with two mini macaroons. The macaroons were stale and I left one (one? Why not both? WHY?) and the mousse was not chocolatey enough and the layer of raspberry jelly on top was irrelevant slime. Reader: I ate it.
· Exhibit 4: today. I have had no lunch but instead have eaten chewy sweets which a colleague brought back from Germany and some Toffifee (okay, I love Toffifee). I now feel ill in two parts: one physical from a surfeit of sugar and the other guilt-induced.
I am feeling fed up with the diet tbh. It’s bound to happen from time to time – co-incidentally after a miserly result perhaps! But the important thing – the thing I MUST remember – is not to let this disintegrate into a slow (or rapid) decline into calorie-fests. Tonight I’m having a chicken breast with green beans and some greengages. That needs to underline the end of the sugar insanity. Tomorrow is yoghurt, berries and my HEB of cereal sprinkled on (I really am not keen on fat free yoghurt), with my HEA of a coffee, a cold chicken breast with salad and fruit for lunch and salmon chilli burgers with courgettes for supper and some more fruit. Then it’s WI on Wednesday morning – if I’m not too chicken. Cluck, cluck...