Right. What happened to my goal of losing weight? I kind of forgot about it because of being frantically busy.
Yeah, right. Too busy to... not eat very much. Hmm.
I've claimed before that I'm not a huge eater, and I still maintain this. I'm not a major binger. But there are times - mainly when I'm sitting at the kitchen table doing a mind-explodingly boring pile of marking - when I'll decide to have a biscuit. And then possibly a second. Followed by a banana. Not because I'm hungry but because I crave distraction.
There are three facts, however, of which I'm perfectly well aware - because they're ... well, blindingly obvious.
1. I am overweight because I eat too much for me. It's irrelevant that my skinny friends eat far more. Very annoying, but irrelevant.
2. If I took a lot more exercise, I would lose weight. But I know I'm not going to. I go out for jog-trotty-walks most evenings, for half an hour or so, and am reasonably fit as far as climbing stairs and walking up smallish hills are concerned. But I really am too busy as well as too embarrassed to go to a gym, and too self-conscious to do any real running along the roads. I'd like to be able to run three miles or so but it's not going to happen any time soon.
3. Because I don't overeat hugely, cutting down my relatively minor excesses isn't going to make the wobbly bits dissolve overnight. So doing it for two weeks and then giving up in a huff IS NOT THE WAY TO DO IT. It must be possible. I am not a walking miracle. People lose weight in famines.
So. Get on with it. Tomorrow. Or rather - since it's 23.47 as I type this sentence - now.
(I don't really know if I'm going to, though. I think I am. But I've thought this before. Picture me giving myself a big kick. Do it, woman!)