The losing of the weight

The on-off-on-off attempt to get healthy is on again.

Having lost a few pounds with zero to desultory effort earlier in the year, I now appear to have regained them. So much for getting to the stage where I can button up my spiffy leather jacket.

Oh well, we give it another go; never say never and all that malarkey.

Part of the trouble is, I have will power that is slightly less strong than tissue paper. I also dislike doing just about anything that is good for me. The whole thing, therefore is an utter chore. I acknowledge that I need to shed tonnage, but frankly…

Still, I suppose I must give it a go. I am getting a bit long in the tooth to carry around an extra person all the time, so I will just have to grit my teeth and get on with it. “Gritting my teeth” was there ever a more apposite metaphor? If I could literally grit my teeth, I wouldn’t eat so much and half my troubles would take care of themselves.

In the meantime, some well-meaning bastard has brought chocolates and chocolate biscuits into the office for communal consumption. How am I supposed to survive the temptation?

I have an apple.

The losing of the weight

The on-off-on-off attempt to get healthy is on again.

Having lost a few pounds with zero to desultory effort earlier in the year, I now appear to have regained them. So much for getting to the stage where I can button up my spiffy leather jacket.

Oh well, we give it another go; never say never and all that malarkey.

Part of the trouble is, I have will power that is slightly less strong than tissue paper. I also dislike doing just about anything that is good for me. The whole thing, therefore is an utter chore. I acknowledge that I need to shed tonnage, but frankly…

Still, I suppose I must give it a go. I am getting a bit long in the tooth to carry around an extra person all the time, so I will just have to grit my teeth and get on with it. “Gritting my teeth” was there ever a more apposite metaphor? If I could literally grit my teeth, I wouldn’t eat so much and half my troubles would take care of themselves.

In the meantime, some well-meaning bastard has brought chocolates and chocolate biscuits into the office for communal consumption. How am I supposed to survive the temptation?

I have an apple.