Tuesday 26 June 2012


No, not that sort.

Chance would be a fine thing.

The edible sort. Or drinkable. And, really, I was trying to be good.

Take lunchtime. Or, as it's now known is-that-it time. I was out of dried fruit and the temptation for something bad was unbearable. The solution seemed simple, head to Poundland, purchase a suitable container, fill with dried fruit. Eat. Slowly. Which is what I did. Except they no longer stocked the container I had in mind.

Jeez, has my life really come to this?

Where was I? Oh yes, Poundland, I also blew another pound on some dried cranberries, or craisins as Ocean Spray insist on calling them. Honestly, I know Milton thought it was okay to randomly make up words, but please, there are limits. Next stop, chez Tesco for £3 worth of their finest dried fruit and nuts and off to the excuse of a park called Tavistock Gardens to sit under a tree and read. Actually, that's unfair, it's quite nice there and, usually, there are plenty of places to sit and ponder.

I do like nibbling on fruit and nuts
I'd just finished decanting my healthy goodness in to the new container when... The phone rang. Great. The nearly-ex. Guaranteed to make me want comfort food. And there's a dirty fried chicken place near by. Fortunately. I resisted. And, eventually, got back to my reading and nibbling with what little time was left.

It works out quite well, juicy (and nutty) goodness, close at hand, but semi locked behind a clip lid so I don't just keep scoffing until I've consumed the calorific intake of a sumo wrestler that's got the munchies. Which has to be a good thing.

The only slight fly in the ointment was the coming evening, a quiz. In a pub. Where they have winez. And chipz.

Oh lordy.

Soda water. Pfft.
My intention was to be utterly virtuous. My intention was scotched by a further conversation with the nearly-ex that meant as well as a pint of soda water I had to buy a bottle of Merlot to add to that which my friends already had. And a glass. I had a small glass.

Forgive me whateva, for I have sinned.

But it wasn't all bad! @PrincessofVP (aka my bezzie) insisted I bring back free wasabi peas, courtesy of her magic loyalty card thingie, and peas are definitely one of my five a day, so I was still being healthy. Plus there was lemon in my soda water. And winez is made from grapez.

I am a paragon of unlimited virtue!

Pure, delicious, sin...
Or at least I was for a while. I was lulled in to a false sense of respectability by the peas, and maybe a sip of wine, so succumbed, in a feeble minded fashion to the who-wants-chips question. Pathetic, I know, but by now I was feeling really quite dirty and a burst of salty goodness with a dip of mayonnaise would be good for me. In a bad way. Or is that bad for me in a good way. I think they balance out and it will have no effect.

Deluded face.

In the end I was quite restrained. If you ignore the chips. And peas. And wine. I really have been good, so one evening of criminally indulgent snacks can't be all bad. Even if it does mean I have broken the Diet Pact.

Or does that only apply in Contrary Towers? Wait a minute, I was in E3! Hurrah.

I didn't even walk home. The 277 beckoned and that did mean I wouldn't disturb my flatmate as I arrived as I wouldn't be much later than she was. Which is definitely a good thing.

This morning should have been normal. But somehow it didn't work out quite right and I managed to leave late whilst my flatmate left early. Eh? How did I manage to waste so much time. Err, other than sitting on the balcony looking at the ducks. This did mean that I was enticed off the train at Chancery Lane for a coffee.

And it was lovely. We rarely get a chance to take coffee together these days, so it's always a delicious treat. I'll not mention that it was a full fat latte as I don't think that counts in EC1.

No cooking for me (again) tonight as I'm visiting a friend who lives in a mysterious place that's not just south of the river, but is actually south. I'm starting to feel a little guilty about this, especially as I realised earlier that I'm at the Royal Institute tomorrow evening being edumacated. So, it looks like the next recipe will be courtesy of my flatmate.

Who thought dieting could be so difficult?!

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