Yesterday, I posted this tweet:

Now, whilst I may have dealt with it in my usual glib, slightly self-deprecating way, the essence of what I was saying was true. I’ve lost weight by avoiding baked goods. You see, I work in an office that’s just off the high street and within a 2 minute walk of my desk there’s a Greggs, an M&S, a Subway, a Tesco, a fish and chip shop…you get my point, right?

I’ve blogged before about having a weight problem, for which the reasons are numerous. Not least of all the fact that I’m both greedy and lazy, a fatal combination when it comes to the size of my arse. But one of my main problems is that I have this enormous, insatiable, compulsive urge to fill my face with shit food. The shitter the better. So, when I pop out to do the banking at work and wander past not one but THREE branches of Greggs (yes, our high street really does have three branches of Greggs) I will inevitably buy not only a sandwich, but also a sausage roll, a steak bake and a bag of crisps. Oh, and a Coke Zero. Don’t forget the Coke Zero, that makes all the difference.

Anyway, the crux of all of this pastry-related rambling is that I thought the hard part of this dieting lark was going to be when I was at work and tempted by the meat-filled lovelies being created around the corner. But no, I’ve found it easy to avoid. In fact, this week’s weight-loss tally is now up to 5lb. Seems a lot in a week, but I’m sure a lot of it is water retention and whatnot.

No, the hard part is right now, sitting at home on my day off. Being busy at work has meant that my mind has been on other things, but as I sit here all I can think about is what there is in the fridge to eat. It’s like I’ve become scared of the cupboards, worried they’ll suck me in and Husband will walk into the kitchen in half an hour to find me laying on the floor in a food-induced coma, with bloody stumps for fingers where I’ve used my nails to open a can of hotdog sausages, face smeared with Nutella and the dog licking peanut butter and cheese off of my chest.

So you see, it is like running a gauntlet, ’cause that one thing I’m trying to avoid – you know, food – it’s FUCKING EVERYWHERE.


Next week, tune in to find out how I join a gym and died in a pile of sweat. (Not really…)

Sausage roll picture courtesy of extrordinarypiemaster Flickr feed