My Chocolates

Monday was another trip to the psychiatrists. It was also another bad day. It was the sort of day that made me think "well, my mind is trashed, so I might as well trash my body now, who cares? what's the point?" I felt very unloveable, and I've put on nearly a stone anyway since I got ill again.

So, having already bought a GIANT chocolate cake over the weekend (I can't quite believe I spent £10 on a huge cake just on a whim, but I did), I bought myself a box of chocolates. Not for any reason, just to eat. Perhaps the warnings of the new medication I'm about to start on (may cause hyperglycemia) mean that I'm trying to get a lot of sugar in, just in case, or maybe I really don't care any more. Sod it all - obesity here I come!

Of course, I won't get away with it - the Wonderspouse will feed me vegetables and get strict and I'll have to do as I'm told. When I get mad with him he'll be infinitely patient, but very firm with me. And he'll mince up vegetables and hide them in things when I'm not looking! Hmmmm!

By the way, I'll probably twitpic the cake sometime, because it's a splendid thing. If you're ever in need of serious comfort, then I recommend the "Triple Layer Chocolate Celebration Cake" from Tescos. It says on the box "Serves 24". I've eaten three quarters of it in three days, all by myself, except for a small piece that the Wonderspouse had with a bit of ice cream the other night.

Better get the big trousers out methinks!