So this post really is nothing more exciting than to let you know how Wednesday went. I hopped onto the scales with a certain degree of confidence this week, because while I haven't been writing down what I've eaten, I also haven't really eaten that much. I appreciate that my last post was about curry club and a cider-and-wine bender, so allow me to qualify this statement.
This week, I've had a cold.
When I have a cold, its not like that...its so much worse. In fact, when I'm ill at all, its so much worse. You should see me when I have a tummy bug. Anyone would think I had cholera. Maybe its because I am a hybrid of the female body and the male ego. Maybe its because whenever I was sick as a child I was sent to 'nanny's house' and was spoiled rotten for the duration of the cold/bug. Or maybe I'm just a drama queen - who knows!? Whatever the reason, the effect is the same. As soon as I sneeze, life as we know it comes to a halt and I immediately mainline massive doses of Beechams in an attempt to prevent the stuffy nose/streaming eyes look that is so popular among the diseased. Honestly, I've taken so many cold and flu medications this week that I've been stoned off my face most of the time. I should just point out, that despite the fact that I was 'dying', that I would 'never get better' because I was 'too ill' and my body 'just couldn't fight it any more', and that I would like to be cremated 'because I watch CSI and decomposition is so unattractive, did you know dead bodies go green?' and asserting whole-heartedly that 'Disco Inferno' should be played as I'm taken out of the crematorium (yes, I really did say all of those things...oh, the shame), I did manage to go out this week. Twice. The potent mixture of Beechams and vodka related in two messy nights of which I have few or no recollections. The less said the better if I'm honest. NOT my proudest moments.
Anyway, my point....my 'disease' reared its ugly, snotty head on Monday. Cue sore throat, achey head, tired eyes and excessive sneezing fits, plus the tendency to rip out the throat of anyone who so much as looked at me funny. Needless to say, everything from lifting a glass of water to soothe my poor throat to getting up and going to the toilet was deemed 'too much effort'. This sentiment was extended to eating, because my bedroom is too far away from the kitchen and like hell was I getting out of my warm bed to make something. And even when I did venture downstairs (most of the time looking like a creature of the deep), the most I could be bothered to do was stick some bread in the toaster and peel a banana. Even that was a struggle.
My dramatics had a decent effect however, and resulted in weigh-in showing -2.5lbs. I am now just 1.5lb away from being back at the 3st mark, and 4lbs from my new 5% goal (calculated from what I was when I started again in January, not what I was originally). With any luck I can get my head around writing stuff down again and will be able to drop 4lb over the next two weeks! I'll keep you posted.