I've discovered another nemesis. I made brownies and came home from the doo I'd taken them to with some ginger cake. I crave both. I had cheese for lunch, but only a little and dinner was altogether virtuous (an Indian dish of spicy cauliflower and potato which I served with pizza for the boys - yes, I know, what a hotchpotch - but ate on their own myself) but I sit here wanting a piece of cake. I did eat a rock bun this afternoon. I think that rock buns are the acceptable face of cakes, and I'd expected to eat one last week and didn't, so I'd sort of factored it into the diet already, so it no longer counted. Oh, shut up. Look, I'm only trying to lose a pound or two a month, you know, and I think I'm doing damn well to keep it up all this time. I will have a fruit and yoghurt day if I feel fat in the week and make up for the rock bun, which was worth it.
Anyhoo, I feel quite tempted to make a cake soon, because making the brownies was nice, even though I did cock it up a bit (see the other blog if you need to know) but I realise that I can't risk it, not for a while anyway. If I make cake, I will eat it.
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