So as I clopped down the stairs this morning looking like I’d been dipped in Accessorize to pick up my plate of cakey-cakes, it suddenly hit me – I am such an utter twat! What the hell am I doing bringing homemade cakes to work?! I’m trying to get a promotion and payrise, for fuck’s sake! And, besides, I could never truly love a man who works in IT and has terrible taste in jumpers.
Hence I’m chickening out of taking the cakes to work. But don’t let that stop you baking them because they are scrumptious.
Guess it’s back to Match.com for me. But what in the name of Peggy Mitchell is going on in the world of internet dating, people?! Is a weirdy-beardy who’s seen fit to put up photo after photo of his head simply taken from different angles by the camera in his computer the best I can hope for?! Even the bipolar trainee hypnotherapist I agreed to meet the other week (for reasons that now escape me) failed to work his magic. You’d think with skills like his, and standards as low and as random as mine, we’d be a perfect pairing.
Perhaps I should call him when he’s completed his course...
No. The only way to attract a better class of boyfriend is to embark on The Diet To End All Diets. Again. I don’t want to be medically normal, dammit! Don’t let the hotpants dream die, Amy! So it’s healthy eating for me from here on in... By God, maybe I’ll stop worrying what passersby think of me and go on that run I’m always talking about. Even if I do run like a henchman in a Bond movie...
Or do two weeks on the Special K Diet. Washed down with a fistful of laxatives. Ooh, I do enjoy a good crash diet, me. Even dabble with the odd eating disorder. One of my proudest achievements was when I didn’t eat anything for 10 entire days. I did that ‘lemonade diet’ where you just sip water with a bit of lemon juice, maple syrup and cayenne pepper in it all day, every day. With a couple of laxatives for tea as a treat. So, quite literally, not a sausage. And while I did lose half-a-stone, I really wouldn’t recommend it if you need to do anything taxing – like think. Or get up from the sofa/bed when you will be spending the duration of your diet without fainting. You know you haven’t found a long-term solution when the highlight of your day is brushing your teeth.
As for the other options... Well, anorexia really isn’t for me. I ask you, have you ever tried to eat a tissue? It’s not terribly palatable. And the danger of regularly mixing bulimia with binge-drinking is that you quite often forget to throw up.
Losing weight is tough. Especially with four-and-twenty cakes to get down your gullet before The Diet To End All Diets can commence.
Which just goes to prove, you can’t have your cake and it eat it. Or ever expect to pull-off hotpants.
Illustration by Bex Barrow.
PS – we're having week off, folks, while I jet off to New York to turn 29 (again) / have a breakdown... See ya on the 28th June!
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