Pooped, shattered, knackered, exhausted … that’s me. I think it’s partly the cold and partly the low calories, but I’m much more tired than usual. I’m sleeping the sleep of the dead (which is a good thing) which means I’m really groggy and heavy in the morning. It’s weird how a couple of weeks ago I was leaping out of bed like a jack-in-the-box and now I’m like a golem. I hope it evens itself out.
The bad side effect of this is that I’m ratty. The Boy is getting the brunt of my short temper … I just don’t seem to have any patience. So I have to make a conscious effort to be more rational and tolerant, or I may well end up thin, friendless and single. That’s not the plan.
Luckily we’re on holiday over Easter. I think a bit of chilling out in the French countryside will do my mood and my energy levels the power of good, so I’m really looking forward to that. Although it’s going to really test my dieting willpower! We’re going to a small town where the main activity involves sitting in the town square, drinking fine Muscat and eating fresh food from the local market. Not to mention their propensity for long, drawn-out lunches and lazy afternoons. So we’ll have to strike a compromise between that and being outdoors-y types going for long walks in the mountains … sadly without a rewarding glass of red wine for me at the end.
I can’t believe I’m facing my fifth consecutive sober Friday night … how time flies, eh?