Desire and temptation...

I was assaulted by a lady the other week.  She was on a bus and she wanted to do things to my body.  She said she could run her hands over my sinewy frame and make all sorts of things happen.  Hey, she wasn't in her prime but I don't mind helping out now and then to those less fortunate than myself.  OK, I was weak, tempted and succumbed but what the heck.

That should have been the fulfilment of my wildest dreams but unfortunately she was the manager of the 'Check for Life' bus in Durham Market Place.  She talked about the dangers of alcohol (but I don't operate machinery), the risks from low exercise (but I have a dodgy foot) and the problems of bulk eating.  By now I was running out of excuses so I hurriedly left.  I went to a trendy shirt shop in Elvet Bridge and tried a couple on.  

I've kidded myself that I wasn't an XL for a while now, blaming the variances in foreign manufacturing and the shape of people in different countries.  All my shirts are tight because they're made in China and Chinese people are all slight of frame.  And MrsDB has boiled my T shirts so much that they've shrunk.  No problems there then I'll just get a shirt made in the USA.  They're all big buggers.  Hmmm, the Gant and Tommy Hilfiger shirts didn't fit either; kuh, probably made in Taiwan.  I came away empty handed.

The thought of being a 'fat bastard' (as my son would say) played on my mind so I decided to get weighed.  You know what, they must be broken, or the floor is wonky, or the batteries need replacing because the readout showed I was half a stone heavier than I've ever been.  Reality was starting to sink in and I had to do something.

In the nine days since my epiphany I've lost 6 pounds, something I previously thought could only result from the removal of a limb.  It hasn't been easy, I've greatly reduced eating bread and potatoes, halved my alcohol intake from life threatening to dangerous, and most importantly stopped any form of obvious sugar intake.  It hasn't been a comfortable experience but it's working.

Today I was in ASDA and was confronted with a shelf of Easter Eggs, about 86% sugar and fat, a 'Fun Easter treat' say the manufacturers.  Maybe my understanding of fun is different to theirs.  It's about 5 weeks until Easter and I'll have to try very hard to resist cramming a few chunks of creamy chocolate down my neck.  I'm no chocaholic but it is tempting at £1 a time to try just one, or two.  But no.  I don't want to become one of the country's blobbies.  I use the word 'blobby' advisedly as I once upset the manager in Curry's when I called his lard arsed, gum chewing, lazy sloth of an assistant  'the fat one over there' (another story).

Must go, my half an egg omelette is on the table.