Tag Archives: handbags

Painting The Sky Purple

So I’ve been doing my Weight Watchers thing for a week today, and you know what, it’s going okay. Better than okay actually, I haven’t stepped a toe out of line. I feel like I’m getting away with murder though…I’ve eaten some lovely healthy meals, but over the last week I’ve also managed to fit in a large cream scone, three small pots of Haagen Dazs and a family bag of galaxy counters and still gone to bed with points on the table most days.

Technically I’m following the flex plan to the letter, but I’m being really fucking creative with the way I’m spending my food budget. I’m sure the clever folk who built this new programme must have looked at case studies of people like me, who colour inside the lines but use the wrong coloured crayons. I think my sky is purple right now.

When they allocate your daily and weekly points they probably have a reasonable expectation that what, maybe 80% of  points will be spent on healthy food with the odd snack thrown in? I’m filling up on zero points food and hitting snacksville with a pocket full of points after sundown because it doesn’t say anywhere that I can’t…

I’ll feel smug right up to the point I don’t lose anything, right?

It’s a bit like Charlie-dog being evicted from my lap when I’m eating and told to go lie in his bed. Technically he does as he’s told, because a quarter of one paw in the bed is still in the bed, right? The rest of him might be stretched out in a masterclass of bed-avoidance with his eyes locked and loaded onto my dinner plate, but to all intents and purposes he’d have a very valid argument to say he’s followed the brief.

That’s exactly like me with my food plan. I’m determined not to go over my points, and I haven’t. Quite the opposite actually, most days I don’t need them all. I’m also determined to eat well, and I have been. I’ve been rooting out zero point foods like a pig rooting out truffles, and making the most of them. Banana pancakes with hot berries and yoghurt for breakfast…cooled garlic roasted vegetables with chicken for lunch…only a handful of points gone by suppertime, but then whoop whoop bring on the points-fest.

Somewhere, in the adult part of my brain I know I don’t quite have the balance right between good stuff and naughty stuff but I’m still justifying it to myself over and over on the basis that I’m following the rules. LEAVE ME ALONE!!! I’m bloody behaving myself and still it’s not good enough!!!

I think maybe I’m pushing the boundaries to see how far I can go over the holidays, I mean let’s be honest, this is without doubt the hardest two weeks of the year for anyone on a fucking diet. I just need to stay in rapport with my food plan and refuse to listen to any lobbying from the Asshole Voice, who will sooner or later engineer a situation which tries to force me into breaking my cracking run of good days.

He’s got no chance of doing that if I don’t feel like I’m on a diet, you know? And right now I don’t. If I’ve gone down a notch or two on the Shitbird Scale by Sunday, that’ll be my Christmas present to myself right there.

Well, that and the handbag I might have accidentally bought to send to Santa… 🙂

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To Me, With Love From Me

willpower

I’ve been working from home today – I’m very lucky in that respect, when I have no face to face meetings in my diary the type of work I do means I can be just as productive sitting at the little desk in my kitchen as I am in the office. More so, sometimes – I am blessed with more than my fair share of curiosity and I’m very easily distracted. The minute a juicy conversation unfolds in our office my ears tune in of their own accord and drag me away from whatever I’m working on.

So anyway, I’ve just switched off, and I’ve had a much better day than I’d expected to have. When I came down into the kitchen this morning, I took one look at the table and immediately groaned…I might have even said a bad word under my breath. The first thing that greeted me were ten boxes of chocolate biscuits in a big stack, right next to my desk. Recalling times past, I immediately made the assumption that I’d be fighting all day with the asshole in my mind.

Do you want to know how much time I’ve spent resisting temptation..? None. Not a single minute of my day. I mean, I didn’t even really need to flex my willpower muscle you know? It’s like they weren’t even there. I’m more than a little bit baffled. I mean I know that technically they’re not mine, I’ve bought them for my mum to give to the lovely ladies who take such good care of her. But lets be honest, that’s never stopped me in the past.

For example, there have been times when I’ve gone through my boy’s Easter Egg stash like a swarm of locusts and then replaced them all before he noticed, and times when I’ve had to make a nifty detour go buy another Daim cake because I’ve vaporised the one in the fridge that I bought for ‘the family’ during a particularly traumatic episode of Grey’s Anatomy and I didn’t want to have to explain where it’d all gone.

My willpower is an elusive frankly quite strange and bloody annoying phenomenon. Some days it’s completely locked and loaded, and nothing’s getting through. It’s like the fun police you know?  Other days it lets me down big time and without warning by throwing open the door and letting every temptation through without a fight. Take yesterday for example. Epic fail on the willpower front, massive.

Don’t get me wrong, my food choices were all fine, my diet integrity is all intact. The same can’t be said however about resisting the urge to indulge in a little bit of leather love. I made a promise to myself about not buying any more handbags until I’d saved up enough for the new bathroom I am desperate to get installed. Six months I’ve held out with no impulse buys, SIX MONTHS! I fancied a quick mooch on my favourite re-sale site, you know just to have a look…yes, well that never ends well does it? I was still trying to kid myself I was window shopping as I completed checkout. Hello???

Still. If I’ve only got so much willpower to use up equally on all the areas of my life where I need to behave, I’d rather spend it resisting a hob-nob over a handbag any day…and it is Christmas after all. A little bit of birthday money went towards it, and you know what, I’ve been a good girl this year.

Happy Christmas to me, with love from me…I deserve it, right?

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