Life's a picnic
Trip Start Jul 19, 2009
160Trip End Oct 25, 2010
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Ever since I said that I can think of nothing but food, I even dream about it.
Right now I'm swallowing back the water running into my mouth, caused by visions of that what I should be missing.
What kind of a cruel process goes on in the mind? The minute you make a firm decision to quit doing something - usually pleasurable - that is bad for you, you turn into a hopeless addict, craving whatever it is you wanted to give up, more than ever before.
It's supposed to help when you tell as many people as possible, so they can help and support you in your efforts.
So far I've been met with ridicule, disbelieve and loved ones daring me to make bets for huge amounts of money that not only will I not lose an ounce but most likely gain a few pounds.
At this very moment we're getting ready for a picnic.
I love eating out in nature, feet, bottles of cider and rosÚ cooling in a stream. French bread, salty butter, blue cheese, patÚ, pickles, tomatoes and peaches. Now how can you not tuck into that?
And all that fresh air makes you very hungry.
Maybe I should stay in and nibble a cracker? Drink some water? Feel sorry for myself?
You know, life's too short.
I'm too short.
If I was a bit taller and the same weight I'd be just right. And I'd fit into that skirt beautifully.
Maybe I'm going about things the wrong way - maybe I should try getting taller.
I think that would be a far more realistic goal.
Looks like we're getting somewhere now - thanks for listening, I'm feeling so much better.
Bye now, I'm off to the picnic!