Good Morning World!
It’s Friday, and it’s a fantastic morning, and I have a suspiciously strange feeling of being relaxed and content and sing-a-happy-song. And an urge to make a breakfast in bed for anyone interested (please queue on the right side of the moon and watch out for flying pigs
)
A question was asked about the Monkey Business. It’s all started with the lovely lady, living next door to Alice…once upon the earlier this month I made a pancakes and invited neighbours. And everyone was happy and stuffed full, except from the lady herself. And when I asked her what’s wrong with my pancakes, she replied nothing. And explained the ultra-complicated eating scheme she was on at that time…(in simple words – her diet)…ok, I have to say for being fat I’m rather carelessly ignoring dieting and con myself into believing that to torture body with extremes is to really overstretch his limits. But hers was impressive and the results were stunning, so I said to myself, ok, let’s see if I’d fancy trying and I asked her for the rules…
Ok, now I must say in advance that I am not following her diet. It turned out to be a rather complicated set of 6-weeks schedule designed specifically for making life as miserable as possible. So on reading the second page of a 10-pages instructions, I’ve got bored and made a decision that I’m good as I am. Now then the funny things happened. I’ve stopped eating what I normally eat and started to eat fruits instead…for no reason other then it felt like eating them. I can go all superstitious and imagine that just reading somebody else’s diet schedule plays a trick to your mind and miraculously makes you follow them. But of course we know this is not what happened in real life. So in my real life I’ve just started to eat fruits out of no sensible reason. Not for a day, not for a two, but just for as long as they can be pushed down my throat…
I must admit that it feels good and easy so far, as I didn’t set up goals and targets in the first place. And I feel that any time I can just buy a sandwich or come to a pub with colleagues and I won’t feel guilty for not sticking to “my diet”. Coz it’s not a diet really, but just a temporary fruit-consumption-craving. Maybe it was the way my body requested for some natural vitamins? I don’t know. And I don’t keep an anxious eye on the scales. I suspect there are not much pounds lost, but my old clothes fits differently. So I guess, it’s working, whatever it is. (oh did I mentioned that it is just fruits, nothing else? Well, apart from my life-saving dosage of coffee, of course, coz whatever you do, don’t ever try to stop me getting my caffeine – you might find it to be a dangerous experiment!).
This is my second week into monkey-style eating habits and I intend to continue until I stop. Or until people around start to pull me down from the palm trees in city park. Or until I'll start to crave for something else. Like a Danish pastry or a tiramisu or a sweet delicious fat and creamy all-chocolate ice-cream that melts in your mouth in heavenly way…pours the nectar of delightful smoothness…leaves the sweet trace on your lips…tempting to lick them until all the yummy stuff’s gone…mmmmmm…mouthwatering…
[~insert laugh here]
It’s Friday, and it’s a fantastic morning, and I have a suspiciously strange feeling of being relaxed and content and sing-a-happy-song. And an urge to make a breakfast in bed for anyone interested (please queue on the right side of the moon and watch out for flying pigs
) A question was asked about the Monkey Business. It’s all started with the lovely lady, living next door to Alice…once upon the earlier this month I made a pancakes and invited neighbours. And everyone was happy and stuffed full, except from the lady herself. And when I asked her what’s wrong with my pancakes, she replied nothing. And explained the ultra-complicated eating scheme she was on at that time…(in simple words – her diet)…ok, I have to say for being fat I’m rather carelessly ignoring dieting and con myself into believing that to torture body with extremes is to really overstretch his limits. But hers was impressive and the results were stunning, so I said to myself, ok, let’s see if I’d fancy trying and I asked her for the rules…
Ok, now I must say in advance that I am not following her diet. It turned out to be a rather complicated set of 6-weeks schedule designed specifically for making life as miserable as possible. So on reading the second page of a 10-pages instructions, I’ve got bored and made a decision that I’m good as I am. Now then the funny things happened. I’ve stopped eating what I normally eat and started to eat fruits instead…for no reason other then it felt like eating them. I can go all superstitious and imagine that just reading somebody else’s diet schedule plays a trick to your mind and miraculously makes you follow them. But of course we know this is not what happened in real life. So in my real life I’ve just started to eat fruits out of no sensible reason. Not for a day, not for a two, but just for as long as they can be pushed down my throat…
I must admit that it feels good and easy so far, as I didn’t set up goals and targets in the first place. And I feel that any time I can just buy a sandwich or come to a pub with colleagues and I won’t feel guilty for not sticking to “my diet”. Coz it’s not a diet really, but just a temporary fruit-consumption-craving. Maybe it was the way my body requested for some natural vitamins? I don’t know. And I don’t keep an anxious eye on the scales. I suspect there are not much pounds lost, but my old clothes fits differently. So I guess, it’s working, whatever it is. (oh did I mentioned that it is just fruits, nothing else? Well, apart from my life-saving dosage of coffee, of course, coz whatever you do, don’t ever try to stop me getting my caffeine – you might find it to be a dangerous experiment!).
This is my second week into monkey-style eating habits and I intend to continue until I stop. Or until people around start to pull me down from the palm trees in city park. Or until I'll start to crave for something else. Like a Danish pastry or a tiramisu or a sweet delicious fat and creamy all-chocolate ice-cream that melts in your mouth in heavenly way…pours the nectar of delightful smoothness…leaves the sweet trace on your lips…tempting to lick them until all the yummy stuff’s gone…mmmmmm…mouthwatering…
[~insert laugh here]