I AM ON A DIET. There. I know it’s not very chic to admit it, but Lent is over now and I can’t use that as an excuse any more. I wasn’t as committed to it as I would have liked to be, but I have been eating better. And now I’m going to carry on. I’ve even started to count calories. Using an app. For people who are on a diet.
Now, before you start going on like “Caoimhe you’re not fat you’re perfect why would you go on a diet and compromise how gorgeous and lovely and gorgeous you are you lovely gorgeous lovely thing…” go ahead, actually. I love to hear that. But it doesn’t make any difference. I need to live up to my own standards.
Of course, like all good diets it’s really more of a lifestyle change. Eat better. Exercise more. Exercise at all. Occasionally stop eating. These are the secrets.
I don’t want to be obsessed with it. Dieting is not a hobby. I won’t be overly restrictive, people should not expect too much of me. I might still eat an entire gateau in a day. BUT I’LL FEEL BAD ABOUT IT.
In general I suppose I’ll try to eat more fruit and vegetables instead of cakes. I’ll have a salad for lunch sometimes. Not like a few leaves and a tomato, I mean like one of those sexy rock and roll salads with like quinoa and edamame and shit. I’ll avoid the vending machines.
Luckily, the vending machine in work is pretty uninspiring. Except for the delightful and elusive Starbar, it’s a confectionery snoozefest. Are there people who actually eat Twixes on purpose?
I’m never going to be thin. But I need to be healthier. And I’m not going to be afraid to say I’m on a diet, and pass on a fourth slice of pie.
Okay one piece of pie.