No, the diet has not arrived on my doorstep yet. Tonight there have been Magnum ice-lollies, and the shop had packs of sausage rolls for 10p so I had to buy them, didn’t I? I mean there are about ten in each pack. But, it’s coming soon – I know it. I pressed a finger into my shin yesterday and almost lost it! I’ve got grannies’ legs.

So, I should be back here next week to report that I’ve begun, or that I’ve fell through the floorboards or someone’s stairs or just died in my sleep (in that case I’ll get my son to make the report). Don’t hold your breath, will you?

I think this means I need to get up and walk around now – right now. MOVE IT FATTY! Sometimes the fantasy of me setting off every day for a one-mile walk/stroll/drudge flashes into my head and I nod to myself… yes, I’ll do it. It won’t be so bad, but then I have to go out for something, to the local shops, and slip onto the bus instead of walking the quarter-mile into town!

I think I should be in chains, in jail, imprisoned in a health farm. I need some kind of control device; does Ebay sell torture devices? It’s really just my bed and sofa that need electrifying. Hypnotism from my mountain might help; a nice red ray beamed into my flat every day at the same time would get me up and about.

I think I’m dying. One day I’ll explode and then I’ll be sorry I didn’t exercise and explore the area more – I mean there’s a lovely bench up near the loch; I could easily walk the quarter-mile there and sit all day, then walk back, averting my eyes from MacDonald’s (I don’t really like them anyway – it’s not my thing).

I think I’ll make tomorrow a red-letter day and hop on the scales. It’s a cheap set – what if I break them? Is there a weight limit? There’s a limit on my little kitchen steps and I’m over it, but I defy death and use them anyway.

I think I’m running out of options so am eating all the carbs in the house because I’m a canny Scot who doesn’t want to see anything go to waste; there’s still some mashed potatoes and white flour left (though that’s actually out of date – but who takes any notice of dates?).

I think I’m resigned to my fate. Oh dear.

Not today because there are still chocolates left and I just had an enormous bowl of Sugar Puffs for my late breakfast. Onward and upward.

I have been oh-so-lazy, now working from home and lazing around on the bed with the lovely laptop – which is not going to help me lose weight or slim into a lithe shape. Winter is keeping me back. I’ll spring forth in the Spring.

It appears I’ve just given myself a deadline; 1st of March it is then! On that day OUT will go all the big bad white carbs and in the meat and green veg, and eggs, and mushrooms, and fish

I’m trying to align this with my iPod Touch but it keeps going awry. I’ll fix it and try harder to update.

http://presentandsometimesfunctional.blogspot.com

It’s hard to imagine those tiny arms we all used to have; that upper section without the swing…and the memory of having long legs in my youth – I think the rest of my body fell, or slid, down and stole almost a foot from my thighs! I find myself ogling ornaments in shop windows – I always wanted to be a fairy. Sharp elbows and knees were once a part of me and would’ve looked fabulous in any enchanted wood, but even little folk must grow.  

What happens to fairies when they’re 40? Do they balloon and swell too? Can their wings still carry them or do they have to join Weight-watchers? I mean, they’d have to do something wouldn’t they? A life with redundant wings, however pretty, and the worry of tatters through neglect must be traumatic. If it was me I’d consider amputation – desperate measures but I’d rather be grounded and happy than spend an eternity in the air, flitting between diets. It’s too late for me but you can save yourselves:

increase Serotonin levels in the brain by taking 5-HTP supplements; include more water-rich, low-calorie foods like fruit, vegetables and soup; fidget, a lot to burn calories; exercise an hour after eating, it releases hormones that can suppress appetite; take 30 minutes exercise five times a week; a 20 minute break between 2 x 30 min exercise bouts burns more fat; short bursts of vigorous exercise and short breaks burns off more calories; run at a moderate pace for 5 minutes then speed for 2 min before slowing down again; do a physical activity in a normal routine, like stand on one leg to brush your teeth; the herb Hoodia, dampens appetite.

I’m passing the baton; you all must have handy hints in the closets of your minds – get them off the shelves and take a good look; otherwise that dark corner will leak out, come creeping after you with tentacles of Type2 Diabetes, clogged arteries and stroke you to death. Maybe it’s not too late; we could be softer versions without wings, graceful and secretive, flitting about new routines, exercising our minds and imaginations instead of putting everything off till that tomorrow that might never come. Even I could drag myself into 5 minutes exercise; I haven’t yet but I might.

ASDA Bakery – 5 white chocolate cookies – freshly baked in this store

I popped over to Asda last night, in a taxi, because the CSI was a repeat; I thought I’d be back in time for the next one. I was there for an hour and spent £38 – I only went for chocolate! Got plenty of THAT. But I missed Numbers. And I forgot the cat food. Bad Irene.