I was all set to change my ways, last week. The bright light of pseudo-Spring had inspired me to crawl out of my wintry cave, put aside the sticky toffee pudding and embrace all things new and clean and healthy….er. I scrubbed the dining room. And the kitchen. And I washed the notorious booster seat.
For the bright sun had, in addition to brightening my spirits, shed light on the fact that the house was grimy, and I now had four thighs instead of two. There were muffins perched upon my muffin tops and bats hanging from my bat wings.
Apparently the efficient metabolism of my youth has left me? That, or mere mortals cannot sit on their butts for five months, eating sweets all day, without growing an extra thigh or two.
Either way…it’s disappointing.
But I’ve been diligent these last few days. I bought vegetables. And consumed some of them. I purchased (and consumed) the small bag of Cadbury Mini-Eggs….instead of the large one. I even did Pilates for Dummies on Tuesday – and have struggled just to walk, ever since. I was on the road to post-Winter-recovery.
And then I woke up this morning. It was April 13, 2011. And there were five thousand inches of snow on the ground. And I thought to myself: ‘Pilates? Or sticky toffee pudding?’
Pass me the dates. And the sweatpants.