So. It's mid January. Corporate turkey and Jesus fest is over (I love corporate turkey and Jesus fest. Praise be Turkey). Resolutions have been made by many and broken by most. My genius plan was to write something every day, be it a diary entry, blog post or a bit of fiction.
How's it going, you ask? My last post was before Christmas. As I may have already mentioned, it's mid January. You tell me how it's going.
Seriously, tell me. It's going good, right?
The only habit that I have successfully managed to strengthen since the house became a barren, tinsel free zone was that of eating sweet treats until I feel sick on at least a bi hourly basis. Major first world problem, I'm fully aware, but hunger has become an foreign concept to me. I've forgotten what it's like. I only assume it's that feeling of being "not nauseous to my very bones."
I blame the boom in the market for "salted and sweet" products. Popcorn is the worst siren call. Sweet and salted popcorn is like crack to me. I think. I mean, I've never tried crack, but the only things that I can think of that I've been hopelessly addicted to are all food items. It'd sound weird if I said popcorn is like cheese on toast. Makes no sense.
Back at work, I have found daily excuses to leave the office and retrieve a my beloved bag of salted, candied crack. I often buy two bags, thinking that having a spare for the following day will dissuade me from another trip to the supermarket solely to buy a single variety of crunchy snack. Never works. I just end up sheepishly (no idea why. Who's going to catch me? The food police? Dear God don't tell me there are really food police) eating both bags in the car on my way from the shop and back to work.
I know in the small, shy, logical bit of my brain that rarely comes out of its hole (assume is busy reading and contemplating the universe or something) that eating 2 bags a day of nutritionally void salt and sugar lumps, plus whatever is shaped like a biscuit and not nailed down isn't going to do my mood, well being and health any good in the long run. However, the other 99.9% of my brain has become something of an expert over the years at fighting off sensible logic-brain at moments of greed. I have a lot of these moments. So if you're anything like me and always need an excuse handy for when you might need to consume an entire box of toffees in one sitting (ow, my body hurts. I feel a new chin coming on), here are some you may use at your leisure:
Before I go, and because "my efforts" to keep this blerg up to date have been pants at best, here are some things:
....Sooooon.
Right, I'm off to have an argument with myself about the merit of getting out of my pyjamas and heading down the street to where my car is parked to retrieve the bag of popcorn I've just remembered I've not inhaled yet. By out of my pyjamas, I mean "and into clothes". Don't want to become infamous for being the local naked snacker.
Bye!
How's it going, you ask? My last post was before Christmas. As I may have already mentioned, it's mid January. You tell me how it's going.
Seriously, tell me. It's going good, right?
The only habit that I have successfully managed to strengthen since the house became a barren, tinsel free zone was that of eating sweet treats until I feel sick on at least a bi hourly basis. Major first world problem, I'm fully aware, but hunger has become an foreign concept to me. I've forgotten what it's like. I only assume it's that feeling of being "not nauseous to my very bones."
I blame the boom in the market for "salted and sweet" products. Popcorn is the worst siren call. Sweet and salted popcorn is like crack to me. I think. I mean, I've never tried crack, but the only things that I can think of that I've been hopelessly addicted to are all food items. It'd sound weird if I said popcorn is like cheese on toast. Makes no sense.
Back at work, I have found daily excuses to leave the office and retrieve a my beloved bag of salted, candied crack. I often buy two bags, thinking that having a spare for the following day will dissuade me from another trip to the supermarket solely to buy a single variety of crunchy snack. Never works. I just end up sheepishly (no idea why. Who's going to catch me? The food police? Dear God don't tell me there are really food police) eating both bags in the car on my way from the shop and back to work.
"Oh, you've been for a walk?"
"Yup, nice to stretch my legs. Get a bit of the old exercise."
"What's that flaky stuff on your face?"
"NOTHING. SHUT UP, AM A HEALTHY, HEALTHY LADY WHO JUST LOVES A LOVELY WALK! NOTHING TO SEE HERE."
I know in the small, shy, logical bit of my brain that rarely comes out of its hole (assume is busy reading and contemplating the universe or something) that eating 2 bags a day of nutritionally void salt and sugar lumps, plus whatever is shaped like a biscuit and not nailed down isn't going to do my mood, well being and health any good in the long run. However, the other 99.9% of my brain has become something of an expert over the years at fighting off sensible logic-brain at moments of greed. I have a lot of these moments. So if you're anything like me and always need an excuse handy for when you might need to consume an entire box of toffees in one sitting (ow, my body hurts. I feel a new chin coming on), here are some you may use at your leisure:
- I'm tired.
- I'm sad.
- I'm hormonal.
- I'm happy.
- I'm awake.
- I've eaten something healthy and totally deserve a reward for being so saintly.
- I can't look like I'm on a diet or something. Diets are ridiculous and never work. It makes much more sense to eat until I hate myself a little bit. Much, much healthier.
- That particular thing is my absolute favourite thing to eat ever and so I am powerless against it.
- This thing is also may favourite.
- This too.
- I'm bulking. Bulging? Whatever. Same difference.
- It's okay if I eat this chewy thing because it's so chewy. It takes more calories to chew the chewy thing than it does to digest it.
- I regularly exercise. That means I'm immune to fatty, sugary food, right? I need the energy. I'm not putting on fat. It's muscle. Lovely, wobbly muscle.
- I need to have a period of eating as though all confectionery is going to be made illegal at any moment before I can turn it all around and emerge, butterfly-like from my poor, abused body. Eventually. That's how it works, yes?
- I've already eaten one crap thing today, so that's today out of the window. Might as well carry on and start again tomorrow! Nothing from now until midnight counts as a poor choice. Hurrah!
- I'm on a Haribo induced shame spiral and so now I need this vat of salty pretzels to counteract the guilt because it's not sweet and so will cancel the sugary snack out.
- It's Friday.
- It's Monday.
- It's a day with the letter A in it.
Before I go, and because "my efforts" to keep this blerg up to date have been pants at best, here are some things:
- Despite my plan (As you have already seen, I am very good at sticking to plans) to stay away from longer distance races for a good, long while until my ankle gets all-the-way better, I might be signing up to the Llanelli Half Marathon. I enjoyed the last one, despite the frigid (heh. Frigid) conditions and grim numbness from said frigid (heh heh) conditions. It's in March and because of my new commute for work, I am unlikely to find the time to put much training in outside of Crossfit and the odd 5k. Should be an interesting event to say the least. The only thing for certain is that I will cross the finish line if I have to crawl on my elbows, because we had cool beanie hats at the end of the last one, and I really want a new hat. Hopefully blue this time. Or purple. Not fussy.
- Dog is still alive. Excellent.
- Cat is still a resident of our humble abode and has entered into a reluctant friendship with Dog. Albeit a one sided friendship where Dog repeatedly sniffs Cat's anus until Hell breaks loose. Aww. So cute.
- I recently saw all bar the newest Star Wars movies. I couldn't be any later to the party, and I want to blog about my reactions to them, but I need to see the newest one first in order to put my inane thoughts down in writing. Soon.
....Sooooon.
Right, I'm off to have an argument with myself about the merit of getting out of my pyjamas and heading down the street to where my car is parked to retrieve the bag of popcorn I've just remembered I've not inhaled yet. By out of my pyjamas, I mean "and into clothes". Don't want to become infamous for being the local naked snacker.
Bye!
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