On the Wagon

I'm back on the wagon. Actually, I believe I was forced back on. I managed a whole week of fucking about with my diet and only went to the gym 3 times in a week, which was wholly shocking and vaguely enjoyable. But, something went wrong up there; in the space that I call my brain, things were amiss. Things weren't quite right, and the not-rightness finally culminated in a massive explosion of hormones and pent up aggression this weekend.

I thought last week that I was suffering from PMT, which was a little odd as I wasn't going through 'that time of the month' - still, as a woman you learn to expect the occasional anomaly when it comes to the monthly cycle. However, on Saturday I realised that it wasn't PMT. It was something far worse...

My body was crying out for consistency. The chocolate cake and the pasta bake that I ate on Friday was the final straw for my poor, battered and abused little brain, and on Saturday it cracked.

I was walking along in my local shopping centre with my mum; we were on our way to get a coffee and some lunch. All was fine, until I realised that I'd somehow lost my hair-tie from around my wrist, my hair was out, and I had no way of tying it back up again. Tragedy. I couldn't cope with it - I exclaimed, in the middle of a very busy shopping centre: "How the fuck am I supposed to get through the day with my hair out? I can't do it mum - I just can't!!"

Over the top? Yes. Uncalled for? Uh-huh. A little bit worrying? Very. But what followed this outburst was even more scary.

I decided that I needed to find a hair-tie. I stormed up the mall in search of a shop that sold hair-ties. On my way towards said shop, I scowled at an old woman who got in my way, told a teenager to 'fuck off out of my way', and almost punched a baby out of his mother's arms. This last act of aggression worries me the most. The baby wasn't crying, it wasn't doing anything. And I had an almost uncontrollable urge to punch it. Luckily, I found the shop I was looking for and walked in.

Unfortunately though, this shop didn't sell single hair-ties. In fact, it only sold boxes of 500. Who on earth has enough hair to warrant buying 500 hair-ties? So, in my rage, I opened the box, ripping open it's security seal, and I stole one single hair-tie. The shop assistant saw me do this, I scowled at her with what I can only guess was the look of death, and walked out.

So, I am now back on the wagon out of necessity, and to ensure the safety of my community - mainly babies and shop assistants. I am now back on my diet of carrot sticks and all things healthy, and here I will stay until my body can learn to cope with treats and such like. The gym routine has also been forced back into existence, and I am now going every day except Fridays. So fear not, avid reader, I am now normal again...