So usually I write a menu for the week so that I can just go to the supermarket, pick up what I need and get the hell out of there, just so I don’t get distracted and pick up unnecessary things because they’re on offer, or because I fancy the idea of some fresh basil (because the basil seeds I tried to grow died a death of starvation recently – I’m still mourning, mainly for my ineptitude as a provider of life more than I lament my lack of basil, although that is still a sadness). I have this habit of doing my week’s grocery shopping on a Monday and then by maybe Wednesday I get a bit restless, and ooh, should I have bought a grapefruit ? Maybe I’ll see what bread has been reduced (one of the pitfalls of conquering one’s carbophobia).
So anyway, this leads to inevitable readjustments of the week’s menu. Then I have a separate food diary which accounts for every single thing that passes my lips from Monday to Sunday. It just makes me happy to look at it, although not so much when I’ve had a junk binge and I’m almost tempted to not write those incidents down because it ruins the beauty of all my healthy food all cosied together, just to have a fat lot of bread and butter come barging it out of the way saying, “Move over, this is Cellulite Country now, population: a bazillion,” and all the little tomatoes and lentils and edamame are like, “Nooo, save us, we are too delicate and low calorie to protect ourselves from this carbohydrate beast !” But I have to write it on there, and it serves as a way of making sure (although it doesn’t often) I don’t eat too much junk because it means I HAVE to put it on the food diary.
Then the other week I decided I’d do a VISUAL food diary. How fun ! So here’s last week’s, Monday 24th – Sunday 30th October, 2011:
Some discrepancies in my drawing ability may result in some people mistaking THAT FLASK amid all the tea there for something else, but I can assure you it is indeed A FLASK. Note the fish-and-chip takeaway hiding in there at the back behind all the booze. Shudder…
A bit creepy, yes. Theraputic ? Definitely.
Now I’m off to do some Yoga-lates. (It’s a cross between yoga and pilates. It’s entirely wonderful).