giving it a little bit of

My sister’s fiance’s little sister and her boyfriend came over last night, so we went out to the local pub quiz. Which meant: PUB DINNER! Oh dear. I ended up ordering the veggie burger, no fries, with peas. I only ate half of the burger bun and the whole burger pattie (which was delish). Surprisingly enough my meal came to about 315cal. Awesome.

UNFORTUNATELY - I was being all responsible and mature, and only had one glass of wine. So while others were ordering bitter shandies and kronenberg, I drank orange juice. Which IS very sensible, but had one of my two orange juices been water I would NOT have gone over my calorie limit by 80cal!!!!! RRRRRGH.

Oh well, at least I did well on the food front. I made an awesome hamcheesespinach omlette for lunch yesters, and I think I’ll have the same again today. woot.

The cleaner is coming this morning, so I’ll get out of her way and go for a walk while she’s here. I’ve really got to step up the excersise situation. I have been putting it off by waiting ’til I get a job to do anything that costs money. But I don’t have to spend money to excersise. I have about sixteen trillion excuses- even though I do love to excersise.

Laters!

On both Friday and Saturday nights I went out with friends and drank probably the equivalent of a bottle of wine and a bit each night.

I always knew that I ate a bit more than usual when I was hungover, but it has extended well into this week this time. It must be because I haven’t had a big night in ages. Or possibly I never noticed before because I ate so badly anyway.

I, like many many others out there, suffer severely from a post night-out nightmare of hungover depression, which my friends and I call the hung sads. So that lovely, positive mindset I had fashioned for myself over the two weeks previous has been ripped to shreds. SHREDS.

Which is why, I think, I should not drink anymore. I don’t think I will become a total tetotaller - just someone who thinks one drink is enough - I love wine and should drink it for the taste, not the after effects of imbibing a bottle. Which means no more cider (bleargh), beer - never a problem for me, I think it tastes like, well… beer. Maybe the occasional vodka lime and soda (which I love only if it is real lime, not cordial).

But for now I’ve got to get back to work on building up my self esteem again - I’m job hunting for goodness sake, nobody wants to hire a meek little fattie. Oops, slightly negative there.

I’m going to see Coraline in 3D tonight with my sister - I haven’t seen a 3D film since I went to a theme park about eight years ago, and all it did was give me a headache. But I’ve heard that it’s advanced since then, and the glasses look remarkably like ray bans. Awesome.

Ok:

No more being down on myself.

I will forget that greasy sausage sandwich I had for lunch.

I will acknowledge that, while chocolate and I can co-exist in harmony, we should not meet too often, lest I be seized by a fit of ‘must eat chocolates’ and devour all existing chocolate forever. Because that will happen if I’m not careful.

I will tape my drinkbottle to my arm so that I do not forget to drink enough water.