Sundays and diets don’t seem to be made for each other. My Sundays are often usually boring. Mornings are ok if there’s F1 on tv, otherwise they’re mortal, to say the least. The same I can say about the rest of the day, specially when there’s no football on TV, or if your team loses a (suposedly) easy game, which was today’s case. It’s 9:30 p.m. now and so far I’ve been eating all day, the usual meals plus junk! A Pringles can has just been eaten and a big chocolate bar is being eaten as I type. Some questions don’t leave my mind:
- Why am I not practicing some bass guitar?
- why am I not working on some web designs?
- Why didn’t I leave the house to go to the cinema earlier?
- Why am I eating like a pig if I’m supposedly on a cholesterol diet?
- Why haven’t I been in bed all day long under my comfortable duvet?
Well, these questions don’t have an answer. Not an easy and simple one, though.
Usually people complain about Mondays, I don’t. Mondays are great! It’s the day I feel useful again. At this time tomorrow I’ll be arriving home from work, which will mean that I worked hard, won’t have eaten lots of junk and consequently will have lost some calories.
Now, if you excuse me, I must go back to my choccy bar. I’ve already grumbled enough!