So another week passes and I'm back on the wagon; five more days cycling in, five more days swimming.
I'm finally back in the 14 stone zone which is beautiful as I was nudging 16 in the Spring. I hope to keep this up, although I'm starting to wane.
I'm waning because this Friday was spent in the pub, followed by a Saturday of less that perfect health. It's now Sunday evening, (post pub again, post-three pints of Bombardier and sausage and mash), but I needed to see my friends, including a heavily pregnant Natalie whose shotgun marriage to Phil I missed because I was wandering around Prague.
And I've been smoking. Granted, I didn't smoke during the week, but only at the weekend when ensconced in said pubs. And since I've been smoking, a strange thing has happened - It's made me able to continue writing my Shit Book, something I wasn't interested in when trying the Diet from Hell. It's as if I'm incapable of dieting, quitting smoking, and writing at the same time. Something had to give and in this case, it's been hitting the fags again just so I can write.
Very unusual. Don't know what that means.
But everything else is plodding along in a remarkably dull way. All the attractive women on the dating websites still refuse to look at my new profile. I'm spending more money than I would like and my budgeting plans have gone tits up. But other than that, I can see a future somehow. Even though this has become one of those unnecessary What-I-had-for-lunch kinda posts, I think I may be on to something here.
Of course, I've now jinxed everything by writing that. The crack pipe beckons.