| DAY FIVE I have got into a routine of boiling my morning egg whilst pottering around the house doing other stuff.. (whatever needs doing for the 7 minutes it takes from cold water to delicious warm egg.) I opt to take the egg into work with me and eat it there, and so carry it in my pocket.. there are a few near misses where people nearly crush the egg by leaning against me, the result of bus drivers and their early morning attempts to create the human equivalent of a tin of sardines.. obviously one thing they don't teach in driving school are the words 'capacity' and 'limit'. There is a sign somewhere saying how many people are legally meant to be on the bus, but I can't read it coz my face is pushed so hard against the window... And so all of a sudden my journey transforms into a mission, just like the ambulances that have to get donar livers to hospitals safe and on time.. so do I with my prized egg.. it's all I have for breakfast.. and I haven't lost an egg yet.. not on my shift... Work is good.. it seems my diet is quite the conversation topic. The conversation mostly revolving around how crazy I must be.. but it seems as the diet progresses, and the further into the challenge I get.. the more that people actually get behind me and egg me on.. oh god.. eggs.. anyway, I have some smoked salmon with green salad for lunch.. the green salad comprising of lettuce.. nothing else.. It tastes a bit shite, it's bland on its own and I start to wish I'd cooked my own fish and brought it in.. At the start of the diet I was thinking that the fish meals would be one of the highlights. I like fish, so I thought there would be no problem.. the problem occurs when I relaise I do like fish, but with other stuff. Battered, or in sauce, or with chips, or even sushi with rice.. so in general the fish meals have been a disappointment so far. My friend steve is impressed by the amount of time it took me to eat the smoked salmon. He is a firm believer in chewing your food, and taking your time so that you enjoy it more, and the body feels more satisfied. I dont tell him that the reason I ate it so slowly is because it was like eating a used condom. I get an e-mail from my housemate Amy in the day.. she read yesterdays diary page and said she can get me goose eggs.. I consider it for a while, but have to say no in the end coz I think they dont count.. gutted though.. I'd like to taste a goose egg.. I then get a call during the day from my friends back home in Cardiff, from the house I lived in before I moved to the big city of London. They tell me that they are having a party friday, and it will be a huge party at that. They are all moving out of the house and so they are filling the place with sand and having a final send off, the theme.. beach party! I get excited; it will be good to go back and get drunk and try and pull ropey women.. cardiff style.. but then my heart drops suddenly, and the realisation kicks in.. I can't drink.. I slump into my chair and reel out pathetic excuses. They suggest I go anyway, saying that I don't need to drink to have a good time... I know that deep inside they don't mean it.. that they know they will be knocking back the booze and party snacks whislt I sit nursing a water with a lemon in it, pretending it's a gin and tonic.. as the diet tells me to do.. I come from quite a boozy culture, I guess a lot of us do these days, but the notion of not drinking whilst others around you get bladdered is an uneasy one.. I know that there are some people out there that cannot drink for whatever reason, and have to endure this every time they go out into that sort of setting.. but I don't. I like to have a few drinks, and more so, I hate being sober around pissed people! There's nothing worse than being stone cold sober whilst someone leans on you, breathing whisky breath down your neck whilst telling you whatever shit is spinning around in their mind. It's fine to be pissed whilst they are doing it.. but it's just hard work when you are sober. So I tell my friends that I probably cant make it, and I am genuinely gutted, but I also cannot break the diet. I am too far into it by now and don't want to quit.. After work I go for a drink with my friend Rosie. She is fantastically sympathetic to my cause and offers not to drink beer in front of me.. but I tell her its cool. I won't get jealous. Half an hour later I am holding a gun at her head demanding she gives me the beer.. not really, I thought I'd add some spice to the story.. but I cant quite pull it off. We have a nice chat, talking about work and stuff. I drink water.. it doesnt phase me.. I'm cool like the fonz.. I don't think he drunk booze either... After that I walk home.. it's only about 5 miles at most and takes about 40 minutes strollin so I opt for the healthy option. I get a bit giddy half way there, but soon recover enough to finish the journey. I stop in sainsburys on the way, and buy my late late late tea. It's lean ham with spinach salad and tomatoes.. again.. I am actually getting a bit sick of tomatoes.. more so than the fecking eggs! They were nice at first, but after so many they become annoying. The ham is lovely, and I nibble at the salad and the tomatoes with not quite the same gusto as I did eating the pig.. but I even so I eat them. I would rather leave them out.. but am figuring that I have to eat them coz that's what the diet says. It's all a chemical thing.. afetr all.. As I lay in be.. and nodded off.. I began to wonder what it would be like to eat a kit kat the size of a pool table... |