Right - well here I am, in the bosom of my family, for tonight, tomorrow and most of Boxing Day (day after Christmas for my US-friends).
"Right," said Ma the minute our asses were over the threshold, "now it;'s Christmas - no dieting till Boxing Day."
To be fair, I hadn't exactly been strictly observant before arriving with her - I'd had a sausage and scrambled egg baguette for breakfast - yes, for breakfast, shaduuup - followed by a large bowl of bran flakes for lunch - oh yeah, I'm just that topsy-turvy, upside-downy kind of guy, alright, deal.
No exercise of any kind today - much ass-sitting, much editing, a little bit of movie-watching with Ma (I seem to have a knack - whenever I recommend a movie, she ends up liking it less having watched it than she thought she did before she watched). Had a Waitrose ready meal - some sort of cajun chicken linguine...thing, which is what happens when fusion food goes bad. Have also, throughout the course of the evening had a plate of cheese and crackers (always useful when you're taking pills that make you shit out a third of the fat you take in as a horrid, unmanagable oily orange mess), some 'florentines' - which seem to be what happens when nuts and chocolate love each other very much - and a single two-stick weakeness fo Kit Kat. So, probably, as Bridget Jones would say, V V Bad.
Tomorrow's Christmas, dammit. Next week - 2015. Let's see if we can damn well get this right then, shall we?
Happy holidays, Disappearers and Friends-of-Disappearing!
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