The spectre of a public weigh in (even if it is just Alfie and I) has certainly focused the mind. All week I’ve been going to the sandwich shop over the road and having a salad box for lunch with either chicken or tuna. In the evenings I’ve only eaten tiny portions of whatever we’re having, to the point where at the weekend when we were all eating together, Commando asked me if I was sick. “You’ve hardly eaten any of your dinner,” he said, scraping the leftovers onto his own plate, “are you sure you don’t want any more?”
During the week when he’s at work I just scrape the leftovers into the bin and cover it up so he doesn’t see it.
I’ve been skipping breakfast too and just having a cereal bar at coffee break instead. I’m hungry all the time but I’m not going to crack. When I can’t stand it any more I drink a can of diet coke. I’ve had three today. It fills me up but it’s been a bit of a pain to get to sleep some nights. Ive been walking to work every morning too, even in this awful weather. It’s more than two miles and it takes nearly an hour but I can’t be the only marketing girl that doesn’t lose any weight this week. I’d walk home too but Commando comes and picks me up before he goes to work. He works nights so if he didn’t we wouldn’t see each other at all on week days.