Wowzers, it’s been a while for my update! Apologies to anyone holding on for this to be posted (yes this means you, Josh), a few internet mishaps have prevented me from posting this earlier.
The past week was certainly filled with highs and lows. Highs being that I reached my first checkpoint of losing 5kg! Woohoo! I was ecstatic when I hit this milestone, however it was short lived when I remembered that I still have another 25 of the bastards to shake. They seem to hang around like a drug deal gone bad. But 5kg was still 5kg less that I had on me, and that had me feeling preeeetty bloody good.
What I also encountered during this week was my first real hurdles – a gift of chocolate cake, Friday after work drinks and a friend’s birthday dinner at a dumpling house. Oh God.
So I rocked up to work on the Friday, feeling like death warmed up. My only solace on this morning was my glorious coffee which was only scraping the surface of the shit that I didn’t give. A wonderfully evil colleague of mine – WELL aware of my current journey – had purchased me a treat that I stumbled upon whilst cursing the day ahead. There it was in all its glory – a piece of chocolate cake with chocolate ganache icing. It may as well have been a proposal, because there’s a slight chance I may have whispered “I love you” to the cake. No one was here to witness this though, so my reputation of not being a crazy cat lady remained intact. At a moment of weakness, I gave in to the cake and had my way with it. I know how inappropriate it is to talk like this about food, but you have NO idea of how much I love cake. It’s almost single-handedly the reason why people may second guess if I am “with child” when I am in fact “with fat”. Thinking I was alone, I delved into that cake like I hadn’t eaten in months. To my horror – mid treat with icing all over my hands and face – I looked to my left to see another colleague of mine staring at me through the front door. I swear by the look on his face you’d think he saw me murder someone. Anyway, cake was devoured. Lard arse food – 1; Jemma – 0.
As Friday came and went, I was super excited for Friday afternoon drinks. Although a little put off by my boss informing me that a glass of wine was 5 weight watchers points (you’re allowed 26 a day), I was ready to have a quiet drink with friends and head on home…
Fail. This health-conscious approach was quickly abolished when I arrived and went straight to the wine list and looked at the bottle prices. Please note: I am not an alcoholic as this was shared with my best friend. Both bottles, that is. The vodka, lemon, lime & bitters however I drank on my own, because I’m a disgusting mess with no self control. Needless to say the night wrapped up at midnight and included a maccas run. In my drunken state I convinced myself that ordering a seared chicken deluxe burger and six chicken nuggets was SO much healthier than ordering chips and a coke and even proceeded to make a public comment along these lines. I had certainly now established myself as a horizontally challenged idiot who needs to learn when to put the bottle down.
My next hurdle was my good friend’s birthday dinner at the Brunswick Social. Preparing myself all day to be good with my food at dinner (whilst gorging on cheese-laden tapas and a JUG of sangria) was pretty much a waste of my clearly well conserved energy. Dinner consisted of two rounds of dumplings and BBQ pork/chicken buns, which are little tasty landmines. On at least one occasion I found myself mindlessly gnawing on my third BBQ pork bun without any thought process at all. Well done on tackling your food issues, Jem. I did notice a glance at my bun intake from across the table that I reacted to by looking like a deer in headlights, with half a BBQ bun hanging out of my mouth. I have no idea why men aren’t chasing me. Fortunately my uncontrollable habit of inhaling shared food items was overshadowed by a bartender spilling 10 champagne cocktails all over a group of “Real Housewives” lookalike women. Thank you, bartender, for allowing me to gulp another two dumplings unnoticed during this event.
At the end of dinner, I planned to take a taxi to a friend’s house in New Farm. However as my punishment for eating 430 dumplings, I forced myself to walk to my next venue. Initially I felt good about this plan, however half way in I realised the walk was muuuch longer than I remembered.. and I was in 3 inch heels. Serious regret. My inner bigger bogan was fighting to take my shoes off and walk barefoot while my chubby classy self was begging me to suffer through the walk. As it was only 9pm and I had already reached my “drunken slob” quota for the week on Friday night, the shoes stayed on. Oh how I hated life. I can now comfortably say that a 2km walk in heels is NOT A WORTHWHILE EXPERIENCE. Your will learn NOTHING from this other than walking 2km in heels at 96kg will only wear your heels down to the steel screw. So now I’m a blistered blimp and down $30 from having my shoes re-heeled. Fatty isn’t having fun anymore!
Next week’s big test is Melbourne… Bring on the St Kilda pastries!* Enjoy your week everyone J
*Expect a lot of whinging in next week’s post.
Jem, I really look forward to these updates. You are without doubt the funniest person I know:)
ReplyDeleteCongrats on hitting the first milestone:)