The pizza looks like a bejewelled plate with its ruby tomatoes crowning its top as it cooks in the oven. Baked beans are bubbling close by.
The teenager is standing close to me biting the head off a gingerbread man and eating spicy Pringles at the same time.
I am on a fast: a week’s fast.
I’ve had the book on my shelf for years and I’ve never dared to follow its advice before. The fast is to last a week. It says in the book not to tell anyone for fear of getting off putting negative reactions. So I haven’t told a soul. I have started the accompanying yoga exercises too.
The inspiration came after I realised that I looked more like Shrek rather than the exquiste Arthur Rackham image I've always aspired to. A love of carrot cakes has been my downfall.
Day One started really well. By chance I picked up a stomach bug and had to take to my bed. I also had a headache that seemed to like to shift positions. I had such pain from it that I didn’t know what to do with myself. Then came the waves of sickness. Luckily for me the bug seems to have timed its arrival just at the right time. It has completely stolen my appetite.
Day Two has gone well. The bug has continued to lay me low so I’ve slept most of the day. I’ve emerged in pale zombie style only to go shopping for food and to cook for The Teenager, who has no idea as he drops gingerbread crumbs next to me that I am hoping not to eat for a week.
Being poorly has left me feeling rested and more closely connected to the here and now. It’s nice to be just doing the essentials.
There goes the timer! I’ve a pizza to cut up. Its cheese tries to entice me in its stringy nets and there’s more here than one teenager can eat.
I repeat my new mantra, ‘I have no appetite I have no appetite.’
Will I get to Day 7?
Day One started really well. By chance I picked up a stomach bug and had to take to my bed. I also had a headache that seemed to like to shift positions. I had such pain from it that I didn’t know what to do with myself. Then came the waves of sickness. Luckily for me the bug seems to have timed its arrival just at the right time. It has completely stolen my appetite.
Day Two has gone well. The bug has continued to lay me low so I’ve slept most of the day. I’ve emerged in pale zombie style only to go shopping for food and to cook for The Teenager, who has no idea as he drops gingerbread crumbs next to me that I am hoping not to eat for a week.
Being poorly has left me feeling rested and more closely connected to the here and now. It’s nice to be just doing the essentials.
There goes the timer! I’ve a pizza to cut up. Its cheese tries to entice me in its stringy nets and there’s more here than one teenager can eat.
I repeat my new mantra, ‘I have no appetite I have no appetite.’
Will I get to Day 7?
No comments:
Post a Comment