The scales told me that the Sunday food fest had been processed, I was back to my Saturday weight. That’s still a bit heavier than I would like but still within acceptable bounds. I really shouldn’t obsess about the fluctuations in my weight so much but having put in a lot of hard work to get where I am and having seen an increase in my fitness and running speed as a consequence I’m rather loath to give it all up for the sake of a few meals. The problem is that this week I’m eating out most days and I know that my self-control evaporates when confronted by a plate of nice food. None of these thoughts stopped me enjoying my scrambled eggs on toast.
One of my colleagues knows about my love of all things Haribo. Although Haribo is available in this country the selection at certain shops in Germany is far wider. She was in one of those shops and brought me back supplies. It took me seconds to devour a packet of Haribo Pommes. I just love the sour flavour. I should have stopped at the one packet but I didn’t. So much for a calorie controlled diet.
I spent another hour on the phone today trying to sort out the next phase of the thing. I think it’s all in hand. It just means a lot of rushing about in about three weeks’ time.
We had been invited to some friends for dinner. They had prepared a pasta dish with tomatoes and peppers and things (that was her description). We spent the evening catching up on recent events and future plans before getting onto the serious business of discussing whether T. Rex could do press ups and if a Triceratops could do a headstand. These are important topics that need answers or so it seemed at that time of night.
My sister is away again so I had to put the bins out. It was far too late for this sort of activity. It made me feel a little furtive.
It was far, far too late when I dropped into bed. I knew that tomorrow would be a struggle.