Well, time for my diet of lemon juice, cous cous, water and shame to truly begin. Why must the most decadent time of year be immediately followed by the night where you are supposed to look your most spectacular? Admittedly I could behave myself over Christmas OR not care how I look on New Year's Eve, but it would be nice to pig out AND still look stunning. When I say stunning, I of course refer to having a less wobbly behind/pot belly.
Not that I haven't been really tempted by all the recipes I've found in You magazine. My grandparents get it with the Sunday Telegraph and it's generally a parody of reality, all £550 handbags and £2,345 wear-once cocktail dresses. The photography is lush though and they do spare some time for amazing recipes which I've been harbouring for years.
And now, New Year's Resolutions:
1) Manage my diabetes. It's been nearly five years and no one has tasked me to take it on as a resolution before. Obviously I'm getting better at present, after getting a bit too frightened about the state of my health, but I'm determined to truly own it from now on.
2) TONE DOWN THE CRAZY. This has also been a struggle this year. I have decided I need a new attitude to relationships. Blablablablabla. I'll probably not let you know how that goes.
3) Don't become your mother. This involves continuing the way I am, hopefully.
No comments:
Post a Comment