Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii. I’m fucked. Sorry for the potty mouth straight out of the gate. But man. I am faaaaaaarked. A combination of hard-core work stuff, extra grumpy Dutchman (not smoking so he’s SO grumpy) and sugar withdrawal. I am not sure how I am sitting here right now awake after 8pm.

That’s a lie, I do know how I am still awake. The GD went and bought cigarettes didn’t he, and in his guilt(?) he has offered to go and get something sweet for me to have with my cup of tea after the boys are asleep. I am waiting for this treat to materialise in front of me. Because I’m weak. And although I nearly died from my head-splitting headache on Thursday – first day without sugar – and have suffered since; and I when I talked about it I said stuff like ‘the headaches are good because it reminds me what I have started and what I don’t want to start again‘ and other optimistic things. But I am weak.

I bought myself pity chocolates on Mothers day because no one else had. I received beautiful hand drawn cards from my children but apparently I am still a four year old at heart and wanted a ‘proper’ present. It was just an excuse. I ate them all over the course of the afternoon and evening (a small box mind you). And I was kind to myself but disappointed. Because I had survived three days added sugar-free at that point. Not fruit or high fructose free but all of the added crap.

There are side effects to the lapse in diet of course. I have a preggy belly again, and the silk muu-muus are good but I have seen my students looking sideways at me again and I can feel a ‘Are you pregnant miss?’ coming. My skin is farked. My energy levels are all over the place and I am slower at boot camp. My head is covered in allergic sores under my hair. I feel pretty. Oh so pretty. These are all good reasons to stick at it.

I am eating better though in general, and am resolved to be sugar-free again by Friday. Wish me luck!