Z wishes she wasn't a shortarse

I've relaxed far more than I should have. I've just finished my lunch, which was a substantial sandwich. Wholemeal bread, lightly spread with mayonnaise, topped with roast beef, horseradish, tomato, cucumber, Stilton cheese and more mayo-spread bread. This would have been fine without the mayo and cheese, but that tipped it into badness. It went right over to unacceptable territory when I added a handful of Twiglets and a glass of wine.

I'd really quite like it if someone said 'pfft darling, that's nothing, I just ate a whole chocolate orange and three packets of crisps washed down with full-fat Coke'. But I suspect that won't happen. Well, it may, because there are kind people out there. But it won't be true.

I have been overeating, I can't deny it. I was so good last Christmas and didn't put on an ounce. Yesterday, however, things really went haywire. I ate a whole lot of Twiglets, two satsumas and an apple, quite a few marshmallows and a slice of Christmas cake. This is over and above meals, obviously. No, I know, none of it was awful and I didn't even eat any chocolate (not that I wasn't tempted, but I'd eaten two squares the day before) but I'm not taking any exercise at all and it's not the way to shed the rest of the weight I need to.

Thing is, of course, I'm older and shorter than you are. I need fewer calories and I'm less likely to burn 'em off. I haven't weighed myself since my triumphant nine and a half stone of a couple of months ago, which has gone beyond self-protective and into the territory of denial.

If only I were six inches taller, I could eat an extra apple with impunity. D'you know, the whole thing has made me so depressed that I've poured myself a second glass of wine? And eaten a jelly baby.

Oh really, pah. And gah. Not to mention bah.

LATER

The craving for stodge has been explained by the onset of a migraine. Huh.