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Phew. Today was the first day since doing the fast diet that I really struggled.

All day, various awful temptations were calling to me, in increasingly loud, more insistent tones. At the local play barn this morning, my boys wanted a cookie for a snack. That actually wasn’t the hard bit.

The hard bit was resisting the leftovers, as they sat all temptingly on the table.

I am pleased to report, I resisted. But I was dribbling a bit.

I also managed to ignore the repeated siren call of the Celebrations chocolates sitting in the fridge. Damn you, http://www.approvedfood.co.uk for making your chocolates so irresistibly reasonably priced! Damn my natural instinct to buy a ‘bargain’, regardless of it’s nature!!

When the boys left some their pizza this tea time though, I will admit, I VERY NEARLY CAVED IN.

It was a super home made one, and what’s more, it was on home made bread, which for me, is a complete temptation. I threw the leftovers in the bin, and did feel actual grief. Honest to god, I was almost weeping as I watched those sad little bits of deliciousness disappear into the billowing confines of the rubbish bag.

What is to blame for this tough day, eh? Well, in short, I level the blame firmly on the flat pack bunk bed.

I hated flat packs before. I have a loathing of them that borders on psychotic now. I could quite happily get a chainsaw and maniacally hack the whole things to shreds as punishment, though thankfully, I still have just enough presence of mind to remember that it is an inanimate object, and not the Anti-Christ. (Though if Satan himself were to have a physical form, it wouldn’t surprise me at all if it was a piece of flat pack furniture.)

Thanks to the evil flat pack, we were still trying to assemble it at 11pm last night. We only got half way through.

Tonight, we soldiered on. But I was blaming it. I was blaming it fully for my day of suffering, for maliciously making me so tired that I nearly broke, and gobbled up an entire fridge.

But- the good news? I’m through it. I’m about to eat a modest, 125 cal tea, and have a glass of wine, and yes, that is still within the cal count. And then, I’m going to bed in the biggest irrational hump ever and dreaming of eating my way through a small nation’s worth of foods tomorrow.

Bring it on!

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