It is ten o clock on Wednesday morning. The second fast day of the week is a few hours down. Already, our fearless heroine is having to steel herself, screw her courage to the sticking place and generally just work hard to not have an almighty tantrum right in the middle of the office.
Yep, this is the same fearless heroine who quite frequently doesn't bother to eat breakfast on the days on which she goes to work. So how, exactly, is today different?
I guess that we will file it under "The mind is a strange and wonderful thing". And we will also do our best to remember that it will get easier again and, also, that a nice result on the scales will make all of this seem worthwhile.
I have moved my "official" (to no one but me) weigh in day to a Friday so that it falls after the two fast days and before the weekend bean-fest. While logically I know that there is no real difference, again it comes down to mind games. My lowest weekly weight tends to fall on a Friday so why not have that number as the one that I capture for posterity? It also means that, should the second weekly fast fall on a Wednesday rather than a Thursday (as often happens) I might be less inclined to go off the rails and declare Thursday night the unofficial start to the weekend. Might being the operative word.
And, in other news, I popped into M&S this morning to pick up my prawn layer salad (note to self: START MAKING YOUR OWN PACKED LUNCH YOU LAZY MARE) and came away with this instead:
Now we can all be a bit sniffy about supermarket sushi - it is not the real thing by any stretch of the imagination but I quite enjoy it on its own merits and it is perfect for fasting - plenty of textural variation and good, strong flavours make it seem more substantial than its calorie count (193!) would suggest. I'm looking forward to lunchtime with the kind of fervour that is usually the prerogative of teenage girls waiting the new Harry Styles album.