Water

I'm trying lose weight.  Oi!!!  Stop yawning, I know I've said it before but this time I mean it.  To the extent that I don't care that there biscuits in the press or nachos under the stairs.  Although I would give my right arm for a packet of Tayto.  Mmmmmm Tayyyyyy  Tooooooooooe (you have to add an 'e' otherwise it sounds like too, if you know what I mean).

So, the water.  Apparently, if one wants to be healthy, hydrated and, one day, thin, the thing to do is to drink two pints of water in the morning and then not eat anything for 45 minutes.  But, as I only haul my carcass out of bed at the last possible moment before going to school, 7.45am, it means that I am a time bomb.  

Two pints of water guzzled in three minutes before rushing out the door . .  to remain in the car or standing outside a school for 40 minutes .  . . is fucking lethal.

I'm a nervous wreck.  Am convinced I am going to either piddle (cackle, I love that word 'piddle', say it a couple of times, promise it will make you giggle) all over my shoes at the school gate or pee in the car.  I practically have my trousers around my ankles before I get into the estate in the mornings now.  No mean feat when you consider I'm driving at the time.

I want to lose weight, and this time it's real man, because I'm 40 and er, hmmmm, not as svelte as I would care to be.  Plus!!  I've said I'll go surfing in Donegal with a load of zumba-ers and Ger.  What the hell was I thinking?  I can't surf.  I can barely balance when standing upright thanks to dodgy inner ear and yet I'm going to put myself on a board in the North Atlantic or Sea, can't remember which.  I said I'd go because I've always wanted to go to Donegal and that is where the zumba-ers are going surfing.  

To go surfing one must wear a wet suit!  Me.  In.  A.  Wetsuit.  I am convinced that Japanese Whaling ships are going to think they've hit the jackpot when they see me and then harpoon me.  Jesus, can you imagine the shame?  Mistaken for a whale.  Morto.  If I wouldn't already be dead I'd think I'd die.

Right, off to piddle.  

Again.

Night.