The Proverbial Towel

Last night I threw an almighty tanty, shortly before getting in my car, driving to the supermarket, and buying a whole chicken. After eating two legs and two wings, I felt a bit sick, and realised that I can't do it anymore.

I don't particularly want to lose any more weight, so all this food deprivation is just fucking stupid. I'm sick of walking into starbucks, seeing a muffin, wanting the muffin, but having to say no even though I've lost 18kg so far and should be totally proud of myself, and should treat myself.

I told my trainer this morning that I can't cope - that I need to eat like a normal person - that I need to say yes to the drinks invitations and stop being a boring fuckwit. And she told me to go to Hog's Breath, order a massive steak, curly fries, and bacon, and don't stop eating until it feels like my eyes are gonna pop out.

So today, my friends, I am going to eat pie. I don't care what kind of pie - bacon pie would be ideal, but any pie will do. I'm hoping that a feast of pie will help me to complete the rest of the 12 week challenge, maybe lose a little more weight, a bit of body fat, and generally help me to not go insane.

I fear that my colleagues think I've actually lost it. I have already thrown a tanty since being in the office this morning... so yes. Pie is needed. Bring on the pie.