Monday, February 11, 2019
I suspect that my weekend's food consumption wasn't the best for me: Two carry outs, two cafe snacks, random sugary treats and not much fruit. It started well enough with a buttered egg breakfast and toast on Saturday then, though remaining consistently tasty went a little more down hill as the days progressed. Afternoon tea was a milky coffee and a Malteser slice, yum. Saturday's tea was a Chinese in Aberdeen, naturally I wolfed down the chicken, S&S sauce, shoveled on the rice and munched along with the prawn crackers and sesame toast. I also hoovered up various other bits (as you do). Then it was an M&S hot chocolate cookie desert with ice cream. Suddenly I was feeling happy but bloated. Nature will of course take it's course.
Sunday found me in a cafe in Aberdeen starting the day with a fried egg and black pudding combo on a roll with brown sauce (and an extra sausage my grandson failed to eat). A good start. The rest of the day I was careful but still fell foul of various chocolate things and sweets. Tea was an Indian take away in Dundee; Korma, rice, nan, pakora ... all too tasty and easy to eat. Just not what my delicate internals were used to. Actually I felt, well a bit bloated again, but pretty much fine. What I did suffer from was guilt rather than stomach ache. The 21st century curse fed by a) too much food and b) too much information and speculation and about the adverse effects of over indulgence. If you read or watch TV then the fun can be sucked out of just about anything.
Monday morning and normality have now arrived. I have survived and am home. No serious side effects, no pain or discomfort, just a nagging inner voice and the need to exorcise my indulgence and appetites by this blunt and generally ignored medium. I feel better for it all already and I know I'll do it again.