Tag Archives: Not Dieting

Living together – maybe not such a good idea?

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Perhaps living together is not such a good idea?

I mean to say, it would be great in many ways. On a practical level, we would save money (on bills, etc.), we could have a cleaner every day, there would be someone there with the dogs more often, I would live in a much cleaner house (hahahahahaha).

But, there would be downsides.

I would have to be “cleaner” (Don’t get me wrong, I do clean and stuff – I just don’t always put things away immediately, if you see what I mean), I would have to cook more often (which I do enjoy – but sometimes I just don’t want to bother) and ……………

I would become amazingly fat! More like a tub of lard. I am sure.

But let’s go back a bit.

You remember that I made him a courgette and ricotta tart because he was going to be home for days and I didn’t want him to just eat sandwiches or salumi (cold meat slices).

However, as a sign of how much he loves me (as he doesn’t really like cooking), he made me some ragù (Bolognese sauce to those who don’t live here) and bought some raspberries and spray cream.

So, last night, we had pasta with ragù, a very small slice of the tart I had made (he had eaten most of it during the day!) and then raspberries and cream (because he knows that is my absolute favourite sweet).

Bless.

However, I eat lunch at work (because it costs about 7 cents a day and I get a plate of pasta and a meat dish with some vegetable). Therefore, I don’t actually NEED any more food. OK, so, sometimes I will have a biscuit or two or a piece of chocolate in the evening – but, in general, I don’t eat. And, with him coming home from work about 7 and not getting to me until about 9, we don’t tend to eat – or, rather, he might eat but I don’t.

We do go out sometimes and, obviously, I can eat and do – but it’s a maximum of once or twice a week. I was very full last night after the food and I know that, after a few weeks of that, I would be the size of, if not a villa, a small flat.

So, maybe it wouldn’t be such a good idea to live together?

Wine with fattening stuff.

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We’re back!

Me and the wine, that is. This is very good. What isn’t so good is that it also came with pasta and a rather too-strong sauce. And A. The pasta with the too-strong sauce isn’t really (well, actually, not at all) part of the wine diet. The wine diet relies on distinctly less food or, preferably, no food. This has two benefits: a) you get drunk quicker and so drink less wine and b) you don’t eat anything which will, invariably, make you fatter.

So the pasta didn’t help.

I think A was a bit upset with my post about the Mars bars. He doesn’t let it drop. Now when he says the funniest things, I am sure he is checking my reaction. If my reaction is favourable it’s OK. If not then he tells me that he only says it to wind me up. I’m not sure that I entirely believe that.

Last night, we were very successful with the wine diet part. We drank a whole bottle of wine. And he was very nice about the pasta sauce. However, I think it was too strong. Sometimes, less is more. This was too rich. Still, it was OK. It wasn’t like it was inedible, which is good although not good for the diet. Luckily, he can eat and so most of the pasta went to him.

I knew I could invite him round as I knew that F would be staying in his own flat last night. I am beginning to understand him. The night before he had been ill. He was up in the night and only came back to bed after I got up. And so, when he told me he was leaving work early to go home, I knew that he wouldn’t be coming to mine and, so, I knew that after my lessons, I could invite A over. But I didn’t want to be late.

You know how it is, you get talking and, suddenly, it’s 10.30 and the dogs need going out and then suddenly it’s 11.30 before you get to bed.

Hmmmpf! So, that was the early night killed. That’s not really good.

On the other hand, as F has decided to stay off work today because he ‘feels like shit’, I will be on my own again tonight and so tonight WILL be an early(er) night.

Fighting with demons

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Yes, I’m sure.

It is, almost certainly, the drinking bit that’s the problem. I am British and it is the ‘British disease’ and I have definitely caught this and I need to find the cure.

It’s not that I’m an alcoholic. Far from it. No, I can go for days or maybe even minutes without alcohol.

I jest, of course. About the ‘maybe even minutes’. Did I need to say that? Probably not but I thought I would just in case. You never know who is ‘watching’. I do have ‘lurkers’ on this blog. People who come but never post a comment.

But when they put a bottle of some digestivo on the table and the other people insist on staying and talking, it seems only right to top up my glass. Several times. This is in addition to the two beers. And I didn’t really need the two beers. I just had the second because everyone else was having one. And I’m British, so one has to keep up, doesn’t one? And I should have just stuck with the one glass of the digestivo and then I wouldn’t have had to concentrate on keeping in a straight line for the five minutes it took to walk home. Sometimes, I’m even almost angry with myself.

And when I looked in the mirror this morning, I could see I had that old-age paunch. Part of me doesn’t care and part of me does. And I know it must be the beer. Too much. I should be sticking to my wine diet. I really should. That never made me fat.

Of course, it could be that I’ve reached that time in life and I have become fat because my body says something like ‘OK, well you’ve had it pretty good up to now but did you really think you could continue to eat and drink what you wanted forever? Well, …….. did you?’

And, yes, I kind of did.

Damn!

And damn the bottle of digestivo too. I bet that didn’t help.

Damn, damn, damn!

I have a blanket.

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I have a blanket ……………… in my mouth.

Also, to coin a very old phrase, I came over a bit queer as I was walking up the stairs to the office this morning. And everything has to be a little more ‘deliberate’. Like breathing.

I blame A. He ordered a bottle of wine and then said that he couldn’t drink much because he had already been drinking. Oh yes, and then I had a Mirto which may not have helped. But it was his birthday or, rather, it IS his birthday today.

That’s why I got away with paying for the meal. I said that, as it was not actually his birthday, I could pay for it.

Still, the wine was good and nicely fits in with my ‘wine diet’. Although I must admit to breaches on the ‘Mars Bar front’, since I picked some up the other day and have, some nights, had one. Still, I am managing NOT to have bread at lunchtime.

So, in reality my so-called non-diet remains a non-diet. God knows what I would be like if I really had to stop eating anything. Well, actually, I know. I would be crap.

So, the blanket in my mouth also doesn’t really taste very nice and I might even go and clean my teeth again in the hope that it will help.

Now that I’m older, the ‘coming over all queer’ bit is not nice either. I always think ‘Is this it?’ – a little like the start of Meet Joe Black, a film which I love and not only because it has Brad Pitt in it (although in this film he is particularly sexy – it was his best period for looks, imho).

And I’ve started having these quite strange happenings in the morning.

The alarm goes off and I set it to snooze for another 5 minutes.

Except that, when it goes off, as I am waking up, I think that this is already the second time it’s gone off. And then I look and spend a few seconds (which feels like minutes) working out that this is the time of the first alarm, not the second. So I put it to snooze. I turn over in snuggle up in bed but, by then I am awake because I’ve had to do some thinking and stuff and so I get up within a minute or so.

Or I worry that I’ve made a mistake and dismissed the alarm.

Either way, I get up and so don’t get the extra 5 minutes after all. Bah!

But tomorrow will be perfect. F is away. I do not HAVE to get up and so I will sleep in. And then I will have a leisurely coffee and then take the dogs out. This has been a very busy week and, not helped by last night for sure, I am very tired.

You’ll be pleased to know that my blanket seems to have become a little less fluffy in the time that I’ve written this. Onwards and upwards. It is Friday, after all :-)