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Sunday, May 15

Saturday night hadn't been an entirely late one, but it had hardly been early. Yet, for some reason, I woke up at half past eight. I have no idea why. Perhaps my home alarm, set for 6.30am so I can guarantee to get into the office on time, is having an effect on my body clock as a whole. It was certainly an early time to rise.

The day was frittered away pottering, enjoyable and not for description. Lunch was in the pub over the road, not the one down the street. Again, the concept of staying healthy was greatly abandoned. After lunch there was more action on the quiz machine, somewhat interrupted by the football-watching crowd who cheered and clapped as Southhampton played on... ultimately losing and doing themselves no favours in the league (or whatever it is - I know thing of this football game).

Unsatisfied with the fat content of our main courses, we opted for the ludicrously high calorie dessert. It's a dessert so big that it comes in something which may as well be a vase. But you can choose to have 2 spoons and share it. This was a dessert so big that a passing man stopped and remarked: "Gor blimey, that's a biggun" and he was right. It was also amusing to hear someone say "Gor blimey". How olde worlde.

Surviving the pub was tricky but we managed it. Somehow, back at the flat, an attempt to pack and leave turned into a "nice lie down" which turned into a couple of hours' sleep. Waking up confused and aware that time was slipping through my fingers, I started the long and arduous task of actually preparing to return home. You never want a good weekend to end... especially when its ending requires a 330 mile drive in the middle of the night. However, these things have to be done and, after a trip to buy petrol and a disgusting quantity of shite food for the journey (comprising sandwiches and things which chocolate in), the time came to bid farewell and head up North.

Somehow, while driving and eating a muffin, I managed to get chocolate everywhere. I even filled my top pocket with chocolate chips. I gorged myself on food and got sticky hands, a sticky steering wheel and even a chocolatey phone into the bargain. Quite frankly, I was already looking for an excuse to develop an aversion to chocolate. As I pulled into a services to clean up (and I did a good job of the cleaning up) I decided. That was that. From now on, I'm going back on the wagon. I'm going to eat healthily. I'm going to stop eating chocolate (the occasional hot chocolate doesn't count... nor do sprinkles on a Cappuccino), no more mayonnaise, no more flapjacks... no more shite. If I don't stop now, then when?

I got home at 3am, tired, feeling slightly sick and with not too many hours of sleep available before the alarm clock was due to go off. Still, I'd had a good weekend.


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