Week 8 - Devil Burger with Chilli Cheese Fries… Really?

So this week has had its ups and downs. Went for my second audition with that old rockers band. I did well but the next day I was shitting it and thinking "What if they ask me to join? Do I want to gig that much? Shouldn't I be excited about the prospect, rather than feeling sick?". After much discussing with the boyfriend, I decided to write to the band manager (an absolutely lovely woman) and explained that I would be pulling out of the runnings, as I think gigging every other week is a bit too much for me. She sent me a lovely email, and I felt so much better about my decision after she told me — and this is because I asked her, not because she is a bitch! — that the guy who auditioned before me already knew the set list (I didn't) and that as he could start sooner, that would have swayed it anyway. But out of six blokes, only two of us got a call back, so I am pleased that I managed to hold my own with the big boys! It's made me feel so much more confident, especially as she passed on a message later that evening saying she spoke to the band and they specifically asked her to pass on that they were very impressed with my playing and that I should never doubt the fact that I am a very good bassist. With excellent timing. Oh, and that my part on Alice Cooper's School's Out was 'note perfect'. GET. IN.

WEDNESDAY

Bollocks — didn't get up for my run. I am really annoyed with myself. My breakfast of strawberries, oats and yoghurt is going down well, as are the caramel digestives one of the girls at work brought in. Don't worry — I pointed it. And the half scone I ate after dinner. Eheheh. I made gnocchi with leeks and cheese sauce, only to later have my boyfriend tell me in a really roundabout that, well... I'm still not sure what he was trying to say. You tell me.

Him: So… is gnocchi better for you than pasta?

Me: No, I don't think so. 

Him: So does it cook more quickly then? 

Me: Well, yes. It's good if you don't have much time. Although fresh pasta cooks very quickly too.

Him: Do you like gnocchi more than pasta?

Me: Hmmm, I'm not sure... No, I probably prefer pasta.

Him: Yeah, me too… Gnocchi seems quite bland… I can't tell if I maybe needed to add more salt…

Me: Oh, did you not like dinner then?

Him: Oh no, it was nice... I dunno… Maybe it was all the leeks in it…

Me: It's OK — we don't have to eat if you don't really like it.

Him: Well, I'm not saying I wouldn't ever eat it again ever…

This went on for fucking ages. And all I worked out was that a) it may have needed salt, b) there was too much spinach, c) gnocchi is stodgy, and d) there may have been too many leeks. I liked it! But then I chucked a load of red chillis over my portion. Anyway, eventually the outcome was that next time we will try a more piquant sauce. (I'm sure he will be on here commenting as soon as I post this, criticising my re-telling of this story…)

THURSDAY

FUCKSTICKS — couldn't face going on my bastard run again this morning. I am feeling really frustrated with myself. I HAVE to go tomorrow. It's the 1st of March. That was the deal.

FRIDAY

CUNTING HELL! When will I learn? Seriously, when? Right after I eat my own body weight in foamy bananas, chocolate raisins and Smarties, that's when. Oh, and a mini bag of Skittles. That I am not writing down.

SATURDAY

OK, I had a very busy day ahead so I didn'tt feel too bad about not running. We drove round Hitchin and Bedford today (get me on the motorway!), and I managed to exist on grapes and a packet of Velvet Crunch snacks. Which meant a curry for dinner! Sounds fun, but it definitely wasn't. Back in the old days of WW, a biryani was a lot less points than it is now. So suddenly, all my planning went out the window and my head was a mental place to be. "What about a fish curry? Maybe I shouldn't have naan and rice… What about a korma with salad? Is a prawn biryani better than chicken? Perhaps tandoori chicken… but I don't want to eat that… shit shit…". All this whilst stuffing my face with poppadoms and mango chutney — it's a hard life I tell you. Anyway, went with the chicken biryani for 37 fucking propoints. AND it wasn't even that good! Plus, even though I was full when I wasn't quite halfway through it, I still ate it all, to the point of being really uncomfortable for the next two hours. Why? Although I don't think it's just me who does that — my boyfriend was struggling too, so much so that by the end, he was propping himself up against the wall next to us in a bid to finish. He gave his last bit of garlic naan to me because it was just too much — I WIN!!

SUNDAY

Seeing as I needed to dye my hair and had a very important audition today, I decided that there was no time to run… And I was right really, as I only just made it out the door in time. Ugh, nerves make me eat…

MONDAY

SHAMONE MOTHERFUCKERS! DID MY RUN!!! Sort of. I woke up at a decent time, but I found myself just lying there thinking a lot about my run, but not really committing to getting up and doing it. Soon it was 7.50, my cut-off time for a run, as it doesn't leave me enough time to get ready afterwards. But then the guilt set in… FUCK FUCK! OK, lets go for a short run then — about 15 minutes. It's better than nothing, right? Wrong. Fuck me, it was the worst run I have ever done in my life. I mean, worse that the very first time I went for a run ever. I was feeling a bit chesty beforehand, and rather than take my inhaler, I just thought "Nah, I'll be fine". About six minutes down the road, I felt like my lungs were going to collapse. But I couldn't stop running because there was oncoming traffic and I didn't want them to think I was some kind of lazy bitch, so I had to wait until I turned off the main road. Fucking hell. I felt like such a massive dick walking slowly in running gear, but I could not take a deep breath at all. I ended up walking the whole circuit, until I hit the same main road home, at which point I started running again. Not a great result, but maybe — just maybe — I have broken the cycle… (I suspect this is also what I would end up admitting to my boyfriend after trying to get my fat arse on his exercise bike).

TUESDAY

Eat-Light Tuesday! My favourite day of the week. Although I have to admit, it's less and less exciting as each week passes on. The first few weeks I would just get calorific light things to eat for the sake of it, but now a little bit of guilt has set in. Which is good. After getting weighed, I met the girls for dinner in a burger place tonight — the portions were huge (they weren't before!) and I was severely cheesed out with cheesy chilli fries. Some might say I had a nerve stuffing my face, given the information below…

WEEK 8 : 1.5lbs put on (11st 7lbs)
This 'one step forward, two steps back' thing is sure to get boring soon. It will.