Time weighs heavy on me!

As the minutes tick on to the fateful weighing time, I can feel the confidence of lightness deserting me.  This week has been a catalogue of weakness in the field of calories and I feel the sins of accretion weighing heavily on me.  The scales will point the finger of scorn at me and I will have to rethink my approach, as the fateful first of April approaches and my target feel somewhat distant.  In effect I have 29 days to lose an unfeasible number of kilos and I have absolutely no intention of starving myself to achieve an arbitrary target.

            That last paragraph is an almost perfect example of self-justification as I accept the consequences of my future actions which apparently are impossible to change by any actions I might take.  I’m good at things like that: presenting the future as a fait accompli to accommodate my lack of will power!

            So far, I think it is true to say that I have not gone through a single week without a glass of wine.  Hardly the confession of a person with a drink problem, but significant when one considers that there is always the non-calorific alternative of water in its natural or fizzy form.  But that takes us into the argument about the relative differences between living and existing!

            There are now twenty minutes left until the fateful hour of eleven-thirty when my bare feet (shoes weigh) make contact with the cold metal of hard reality and the wheel spins to the stark truth of failure.  Last week the weight loss was 100gms.  This week I would be happy with one, but . . .

            Now I feel better, having written up the approaching debacle so that it appears to have a literary significance tinged with theoretical musing and real fear.  It is no longer failure, but rather an emotional event!

            Fifteen minutes to go.  The last sips of my milk-less Chinese tea and then the long climb up the stairs, making a call into the bathroom because, as Tesco keeps telling us, ‘Every little helps’ – looking at that slogan now it appears to be completely lopsided and illogical, but that’s marketing for you.

            Well.  400gms.  Loss!  I have absolutely no idea how that happened.  I must be doing something right, although I am realistic that I am not going to make my target at this paltry rate of weight loss.

            Tomorrow the pool should (should) be open again for me to do my lengths, although I am not optimistic.  Why should the lady on the counter have given me a card and told me to phone before I turned up, if she was certain that the work on the filtration system would have been completed by the stated time?  This is the third delay and I have no reason to suppose that it will be the last.  I would very much prefer that the filtration system is perfect and wait for that to happen than come down with typhoid!  Or worse!

            So the easy weight loss days are over and we are now into the stubborn fat which is taking its time to go.  I will persevere and hope for the best while eating more and more cottage cheese!

This week should see the return of my tutor marked assignment and its mark will determine my future strategy.  I have made some rough notes about the content of the future assignments and I hope that they will be used.  If the mark is poor then I will rethink.  But I am getting tired of the speculation and would prefer the real thing to aid my decisions!

There is an exhibition in France that I wouldn’t mind seeing.  It is in the Monet museum and is of rarely seen Impressionist paintings in private collections.  It probably is worth going to see if I can get a flight at the right price.  Worth looking into.  And Irene will come as well if I can find flights which allow her to do her classes.  I think that the way to approach this is to think of a maximum price that I am prepared to pay and then go from there.

            Culture calls!