Goal tender

All that wallowing yesterday certainly paid off. I’m funny with the wallowing. I like to do it, almost need to do it, but not for too long. I get tired of the sound of my own voice wailing "I don't know, I don't know!" Once I’ve done it publicly, and it’s out there, then I straighten up and fly right. Works every time.

So yesterday, I polished off two litres of water at work, went home, worked out for a second time yesterday, cardio this time, and then drained another litre of water. I made a rare untasty supper, though it was at least healthy. Dessert was a strawberry-mango-grapefruit-pineapple salad. Post-dinner snacking amounted to a spelt crispbread with some goat gouda, and then I packed myself away in bed by 11pm, managed to get in some snuggle time with the Professor, and then slept the sleep of the righteous.

And this morning, Pilates. Walked to work in the soft sunshine and am now drinking water like a hero.

I think it’s going to be a good day.