It's not over

Tuesday:

Did I think yesterday was hard? Yesterday was easy.

The garbage truck woke me at 5:30. I got back to sleep and dreamed I was riding a bicycle over a bridge over a deep gorge, a terrifyingly narrow bridge with a railing only on one side. And I'm scared of heights at the best of times, let alone in an actual life or death situation. And then I knew Jasmine was going to be riding over in a minute. Horrible.

I woke feeling awful. PMS with all the physical and emotional discomfort that sometimes comes with this time of the month. I'd slept very late, and it was barely 10 minutes before Jas and Tim left for school and work, but I still had an hour with Aiden. I managed to make his lunch, the rest of the time we sat in front of the TV with him on my lap. Got him off to school.

I decided I was having a sick day. Not worry about what I should be doing, just let it go like I would if this was a virus instead of hormones.

I didn't want my planned breakfast. Slimy yoghurt? Yuck. I had cheese and grapes. Then I watched TV all morning, feeling miserable.

I started thinking about food. Chips. Cheesy flavour - like cheezles or Doritos. Crunchy, salty. I tried hard to resist. I prepared my lunch early, 11:30, but after a couple of bites I didn't want it. Not what I was craving. I brushed my teeth. Then I remembered KFC. It was only two blocks away, and even had drive through. Fatty and salty. Exactly what I wanted. So I went and got some.

It was lucky I got drive through instead of eating there because I inhaled my three pieces, usually my limit of grease, and if there had been more I would have eaten more. If I was still in the restaurant I would have bought another three. I still want more right now. It was delicious and exactly what I was craving. Of course it was also about a million unhealthy calories.

If I achieved anything today, and that is precious little, it was not going back and getting more.

I couldn't face cooking, and ordered pizza for dinner. And had my first liquid of the day then. One glass of water by the end of dinner.

My pants are suddenly too tight.

I am not making light of this slip or excusing it due to PMS. PMS makes it harder, it doesn't make healthy choices impossible. I always still have a choice, every time.

This diet is not over. I don't care how many times I stumble. Each time, I'll just pick myself up again and keep going. But today was not a day to be proud of.

Hard Day

Friday:

I had a super busy day at work. Deadlines were suddenly brought forward to, like, RIGHT NOW, and it left me feeling a bit frazzled. And I had lunch an hour late to finish some urgent work, and not getting my regular calories always affects me. But most of all it is that TOM. I can't call it PMS because it isn't pre-, it's during-. I feel miserable and dazed and achy.

I got out of work late and had 11 minutes to do the 25 minute brisk walk to the school to pick up the kids. I hate being more than a few minutes late so I walked as fast as I could and even broke into a jog for a while (in work clothes and wearing my backpack). I was a little late but not too bad. But I felt exhausted by the time I got there. I asked my boy if he minded skipping gymnastics for once (he didn't mind) so we went home and I got in a hot bath then had a cup of tea.

I had this panel thing tonight, I was supposed to be one of five editors answering questions from local authors. I don't know why I ever agreed to it, I'm rather shy so the whole thing was very scary. But I was determined to fulfil the commitment even though I was feeling horrible. I had to have dinner very early, then Tim would get home and make dinner for himself and the kids while I went out.

Then I drizzled balsamic vinegar over my salmon instead of soy sauce.

I hoped for the best, maybe it would go ok with the lemon, chilli and garlic. So I put it in the oven. And overcooked it to dry blackness. And the vinegar did not taste good. So I had to throw my dinner away. My mind clearly was not working. I just couldn't cope. I emailed the panel convener with my apologies although I felt very guilty and defeatist.

My husband got home, having rushed to be here about two hours earlier than usual. He was concerned about me not going to the panel. So I cried a bit.

He made dinner and I ate it and feel a little better. But I still just want to crawl into bed, and will do so soon.

So nothing very terrible happened but it was a hard day and I am glad it is over. Or at least at the stage where I can just sit and stare blankly at the TV.