Nnnngh

Frustrated, deprived
She sits. Waits. Doing nothing depraved.
Thinking about fucking
Nothing.

Sombre

It has just been one of those mornings. I woke up at nine leaving no time for a shower, ate breakfast and consequently felt sick all morning and managed to have a marital spat all before I'd wiped last night's make up off. At college somebody turned the stove up to insanity-face-peeling 6 and so both my lasagne sauces burned whilst I was washing up said wanker's pans... probably. I enlisted three people to fix that damn bechamel, burned though it was it was saved (just). Chef G told me I'd have level one done by Christmas, ready to start level two in January. I'm really quite pleased and it showed all morning in my deep-south mugshot grin. I also broke the tap off my sink which then coughed up water until it was reattached. Whew.
Why is everything happening on Thursday? Pedestal, parent's evening, whatever Mike is doing. It's shaping up to be a busy day. I think I'll pre-plan some things, maybe go shopping.. Urgh, I should have done that today... too tired and irritable now.

Working on it

Part 1

It wasn't a feat,
But a sad, sad fleet.
Rode into the night-foam,
Slow and drear.
And she was watching through
Her pane, clutching neat
Folds in his shirt, all wrapped around
The hot water bottle's heat.
Almost half-wishing
It had a heart beat.


Part 2

Lost was the rhythm that she revived.
Who knew why
The iron lay out by the side
And rot had crept in where sleeping dogs die.
The family table grew sinewy, weak
With the echo of untouched dishes.


Part 3

It wasn't supposed
To appear like hope,
The shimmering ray torn out
As the boats
Set sail, she lay glittered
Unspangled, blander alone
As the ocean lapped shore, she wondered...
What was left of the coast?
Gentle memories
Of his ghost.

Pains, Propositions and Pizza (or lack thereof)

First - the pains. As I switch my hot water bottle from lower back to lower tummy, it's pretty obvious what kind of pain :P Thank gods for a man who works in mysterious ways by which I am left medication, it's form smokeable and mild. But enough. No details, thankyou.

Propositions take on a different shape which is perhaps more virtuous. Once again the seasons have shifted underneath our feet and the cool weather is ravaging my appetite. My stomach waxes lyrical for chips, roasts and anything slathered in warm, rich goodness. But I have a cunning plan up my sleeves for keeping off winter pounds and it's simpler than an eight step plan, infinitely easier to stick to as well. It is still a diet of sorts, and I guess I will have to write down what I eat to keep in check.
Roast meats are being replaced with roast vegetables and tofu. It sounds boring? Not on your life. Seasonal herbs, light gravies and a careful approach to starches like pasta, bread, rice and potatoes sounds almost enticing.
Curry! It might sound like a cop-out but chilli heat is a fantastic way to replace a craving for fried foods, replacing the heat of fat with a body-tingling warmth that will let me forget I was even thinking about throwing some chips on to cook.
Bread is taking a backstep as well. In place of toast- crackers. In place of sandwich bread- a little rice. Tortilla wrap? Lettuce wrap! Yeah that last one sounds like a health step too far, but screw you, it's damn tasty and usually more refreshing.
Soup, duh. Soup is a super healthy fast food and everyone likes curling up around a big bowl of hot soup. Duvet? Check. Crappy reruns of old movies? Check. Soup and bread roll? Ah, just this once. Yum. Now I want soup :(


Hot food is cold weather's lover. So don't think that diets mean salads, and be sure I won't be out jogging over frost-baked fields or cutting back on the booze (at least until after January), but maybe I can forego living in my sweat pants this year if I work hard to eat everything healthy AND delicious in sight.

This brings me to pizza, which I am making tomorrow and which will be a bitch not to scoff back in seconds.