i have eaten fruit every day.
true, i have taken several sleeping pills but i had to work in the morning and didn't want to frighten my patients with the drooling zombie face of death.
i have looked in the mirror and seen the Alarming Growth Of The Gut. no wonder, given the complete and utter pork-out and wine-swill that the preceding two weeks had been. i must do something about this. i cannot stand the sight of myself. and yet, here i sit, instead of hoisting my arse off the soft sheep-covered glory of the couch and going to work out. my excuse - laundry. not that laundry requires active participation these days. no longer must one hoist one's unmentionables in a bundle over one's head, waddle to the river and beat them over a rock. no. they now have a machine that does all the work. but no matter. i am doing laundry, sweaty brow and all.
over and out.