Firstly, let me preface that this is not a New Years resolution.

In the last couple of weeks I have made the decision to try and loose a few pounds. There is a very important reason for this, which I may go into later.

I’ve done this before, but it’s usually been illness related. Now that I’m doing it, and it’s by choice, and it’s by deliberately dieting, exercising, and other means.


Probably the only physical pleasure I get — I know, sounds kinda wrong, doesn’t it? — is eating. I love a good meal. I think, perhaps, it was made all the more special by the fact that my mother wasn’t much of a cook. At all. So finding a good meal in front of me… something I could savour… something I craved for each and every day… was always welcome.

Now I don’t get that. Every meal is terrible. And I spend every minute, of every day, craving my next meal.

…And they’re almost always a disappointment.

My stomach rumbles almost constantly.

Loosing weight sucks.