I’m afraid to admit I nearly forgot about this entry, but they probably goes to show how disheartening this has all been. Not so much an experiment, but a horrible realisation.
This week I gave up more than usual and have enjoyed a very alcoholic Thursday (school nights are always the best night to go out), and so I was in desperate need of a Subway footlong toasted Pizza Sub and a bottle of Coke Zero the next day. Last night I comfort fooded (a new verb there: to comfort food – the act of eating yummy carbohydrate or sugar rich foods to encourage mental well-being) on chillied spag bol. I did have a pizza earlier in the week, and while I type this I’m sucking down my first beer for the night. So I’m sure the scales will not be kind, but after nine weeks of this tedium I no longer care.
I’ve spent the day with Mark picking up the last pieces for my Sleaze costume. More next week – as well as the last entry in this series, thank Gods – but as a little hint, considering the party’s theme is “Game On”, think John Newcombe. Actually, that sort of right gives it away, doesn’t it?
Get it over and done with, shall we?: 87.3
That’s brilliant, I’m back where I started. This whole two months have been a complete waste of time.
Well, fuck it then. I’ll have another beer.