(Husband, this one is not for you to be reading 
thank you or actually anyone else one who doesn’t wish to read a big long moan ).
So i have to diet, again.
I lost several pounds before Xmas, and put them right back on again.
This time though I need to lose a good chunk more if I’m to make any difference to my shape and to finally get rid of my fat arms.
My problem is I’m to tired, to unenthused, to unmotivated. I have a funny view when it comes to my weight, half the time I think ah well whats the point in being thin when my face was hit with every ugly stick that ever grew on the ugly tree, a bit like that saying ‘no use polishing a turd’. Also the first place I lose weight from is my chest, so back down a cup size I go and bye bye any last bit of femininity I had. Yes you can look feminine and be flat chested of course, if you have the redeeming feature of what’s seen as a pretty feminine face.
Then I also think in the grand scheme of things I have far far greater worries than my weight, and with the smallest bit of energy I have left at the end of the day I’d rather spend it catching up with my only friend over a glass of wine or watching some tv with my husband.
I know once you get started the endorphins are supposed to kick in (once upon a time i was addicted to the gym) but to be honest after the last three workouts I’ve done this hasn’t even happened. Maybe it’s the serotonin levels in my brain or something. I’ve been feeling oddly homesick of late too so maybe it is just a chemical brain thing at the minute.
All i can do is drag my body, kicking and screaming in to cutting back on my fat in take and exercise regardless of it not making me feel in the slightest bit more energized 
Oh and also if someone tells me ‘well yes you could lose a few pounds’ I then start to think stuff of, I’ll eat 2 bags of crisps today instead of one (although I don’t). Yes childish I know, I just HATE anyone else commenting on MY weight, and if I’m eating then it is because I’m hungry not just because I can. I have had not 1, not 2, not 3, not 4, not 5 but 6 babies and it has put wear and tear on my body, I’m not bloody wonder woman. It has affected my body in many ways and it has played havoc with my hormones so I have cut myself a bit of slack. If I’m a bit out of sorts sometimes i understand it’s because i deal with a lot of crap that other’s more fortunate don’t. I also know all about nutrition, I’m not daft, I’ve just been lazy and as i said unmotivated. Now I’m no longer able to wear things I see and like (because I know my big arms sticking out of cap sleeves look horrendous) i am having to take action.
So it starts today, diet on, exercise ahoy……..uuurrrggghhhhh. I will be charting my progress in my phone everyday.
Why can’t we go back to the renaissance when big bottoms, small boobs and chubby faces were all the rage…ah well if only I had a tardis that’s where me and my rubenesque self would be headed and stuff the lollypop headed, false haired, plastic (poisoned) oversized oddly ball shaped boobs and orange tainted fake baked skin of today
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