What I really need is .....

... a nice, decent bout of 72-hour stomach flu.   Something that will make me lose about 10lbs in a week.

I will reluctantly admit that I am a bit chubby.  Not obese-fat, but nothing that losing 30lbs wouldn't hurt.  I am over the ideal weight, whatever that really means.

Well, what it means is that while my jeans do feel a bit tight, there is no way in hell that I am buying the next size up - that's what it really means.


Now some people, when they get a toothache, cannot eat properly.  Not me. I bravely - nay valiantly - work through all tooth pain and manage to squish or pulp my food so I can still stuff my little face.


Some people, when they feel rough, nauseous, or ill - well, they lose weight.  They can't stand the sight and smell of food.  Who are these people for godsake?  It's food!  Apparently though, they are "normal".


When pregnant, I was still throwing my guts up at 20-weeks.  But I fought on, ensuring that me and my growing tummy were not deprived of a few calories.  Unselfish to the core, that's me.

I've been off work for a few days this week with a bad back.  Nothing major, thankfully - but painful and awkward enough to prevent me from doing much at all.  Sharp pains under my shoulder blade take the breath out of me.  I've twisted or pulled something and it's just really annoying.  But it's not slimming.


I'm the kind of person who returns to work after a few days off sick and I look "healthier" - read rounder-faced.  Just for one day, I'd love someone to tell me I'm looking gaunt.


Despite switching from a standing position to laying prostate on the sofa flicking listlessly through the channels of some incredibly awful daytime TV (except for Extreme Makeover: Bawling-Your-Eyes-Out Home Edition), me and my bad back can still manage to haul my ass over to the pantry to rifle through the bowl of Halloween goodies.

It occurs to me this morning (feeling quite a bit better now thank you) that I have scoffed 21 mini bars of chocolate in the last three days.  Yes, 21.  I hang my head in shame - and my three chins and tummy follow.


Even the heavenly aroma of Rub-A535 (for my UK readers, it's like Deep Heat) or the tingling from funky patches can't thwart my appetite.

I would normally protesteth too much at this point and explain to you that I do know how to eat healthily.  I have a well-balanced diet - yes, yes, a glass of wine in one hand and a slice of cake in the other.  I eat well, I cover all my food groups, and you'd be impressed with my fibre-intake (and therefore my output, hee hee - OK, too much information).  I just seem to have an issue with portion control.  I love food.  Simple as that.  'Tis one of life's pleasures.

Now then  - you know when I mentioned that lovely warm weather the other week, and it snowed?


If I mention a 72-hour stomach flu now, will the karma fairies return and help me get back into those jeans?  OK, be careful what you wish for, and all that .... 


Have a happy, healthy and slimming week folks, and, sigh, if that doesn't work, we still have choccie in my cupboards.  See you in half an hour.