I just want to bin the entire contents of my fridge which currently is still, 4 days after Christmas, rammed with plates upon plates of tinfoil-covered, heart attack-inducing leftovers.
The tight northerner in me can’t bear to bin the half-eaten pork pie and two thirds of a bowl of trifle. Half empty tubs of cream, brandy butter, pate. And cheese! Red cheese, white cheese, smelly cheese, cheese with fruit in it, goats cheese… every type of fucking cheese!
Whilst I battle with my conscience over whether or not to bin the lot, I’m steadily grazing through it. Breakfast this morning was two-and-a-half cold pigs in blankets, a slice of pork pie and a nibble of… cheese. Mid morning snack? A couple of large spoonfuls of trifle. In fact every time I open the fridge I find myself nibbling on something.
Yesterday I ‘nibbled’ my way through half a block of Wensleydale with cranberries. I don’t even eat bloody cheese for 11 months of the year knowing all too well that I only have to look at a Babybel and I’ve gained a pound.
Even knowing how hard life will be as of 1st January when I will throw myself into some crazy diet, I’m still in cheese denial for three weeks over the Christmas period. I am stuck in the dreaded festive mind-set of “oh fuck it, diet starts on January 1st – Lyndsey don’t waste the food. Think of the Syrian refugees… they certainly won’t get to experience the taste sensation a luxury Morrisons cheeseboard.”
I’ve managed to convince myself that if I don’t put food on an actual plate then it doesn’t actually count towards my calorie and fat consumption for the day. And if I skip a proper meal at meal time then I am entitled to two bags of kettle chips on the sofa in the evening. With a bottle of red wine.
I’m trying though. I’ve done a few token stomach crunches over the last week and I actually managed an entire day with no booze yesterday, which was a huge achievement bearing in mind that there is half a bottle of Chardonnay in my fridge. Used mostly for washing town gobful after gobful of cheese and trifle; swigged direct from the bottle whilst I hide behind the open fridge door. Like a sufferer of Bulimia Nervosa. Only without the purging.
Still there’s 48 hours of gluttony left and still some cheese to get through, oh, and it’s wine o’ clock.
January 1st can’t come soon enough. Bring on the Nutri-Bullet. I’ll be ramping up the PT sessions and I will make it right the way through dry January. Sugar, carbs, dairy, red meat – you are all off the menu. A diet of dust and greens it is.
Fuck you cheeseboard – bring on a healthy 2017.