Three Weeks Without

About 2 months ago I had one of those moments where you realise your own mortality, I really hate it when that happens. This tends to result in me attempting to give up beer, cigarettes and making sure I take out my earphones and look both ways before crossing the road. It usually only lasts a few days before the Drinking Buddy rings me for a ‘quiet pint’ which more often than not ends in us standing outside the minicab place at 5am singing songs from Phantom of the Opera.

Three weeks ago, however, was not so much a realisation of my own mortality, but a realisation of how I look in a bikini. Now I am, or at least I used to be, one of the depressing people who can eat whatever they want and not gain weight. There are pictures from when I was on holiday in August in which I look quite good, not page 3 model but good all the same. How is it so much can go wrong in 4 months?

Three weeks ago I saw a picture of me, same bikini but in December. By belly appeared to have grown about as far as my arse had dropped and I panicked. Big time. I rang the Fella in floods of incomprehensible tears and once he had deciphered what I was saying he attempted to convince me that I was absolutely gorgeous but we both concluded that being a little healthier couldn’t hurt. So I cut out all take away food and vowed never to get the bus to the tube station ever again.

To congratulate myself for my dedication to my own personal health (nearly) everyday for the past three weeks I am going to reward myself with, yes you guessed it, a McDonalds for lunch.

Introduction: Personal Vices and Rufus Wainwright.

Before anyone asks, yes the title is in reference to the Rufus Wainwright song Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk. I thought it would summarise my vices nicely, the only problem being that I don’t actually drink chocolate flavoured milk, hence the slight alteration. Perhaps I’ll get told off for plagiarism and make loads of money selling my sob story about evil soulless record companies to The Sun. We’ll see.

Of course I have more vices than just cigarettes and strawberry milk, I am human of course, and just strawberry milk on its own isn’t really one of them. Its strawberry milk plus medium fries, a BigMac or a McChicken sandwich and 6 chicken McNuggets.

Yes, the rubbery textured and bland tasting, sugar fuelled burger tempts me at least 2 or 3 times a week and even that unsatisfied, slightly sickly feeling that you get afterwards doesn’t deter me. However I have managed to resist the temptation for three weeks now and replaced it with doing the 45 minute walk to the tube station everyday and 20 minutes on my exercise bike.

Of course that doesn't solve the issues of beer, smoking and a tendancy to watch Hollyoaks.