I was going to start by complaining along the lines of: 'America has robbed me of my self control when it comes to eating', but then I thought that someone (probably Lotti) would comment that I never had any the first place, so I thought better of it.
The situation is thus. I don't know how much I weighed when I got here, and I don't know now. What I do know is that when I got here I could fit into my trousers and shorts quite comfortably, and I needed a belt on my suit trousers. Now, my trousers are tight, shorts uncomfortable, and my suit trousers are perfectly happy holding themselves up without any external assistance. This might have something to do with the fact that three course lunches are not uncommon. Correction, free three courses lunches are not uncommon. Whereas an English company would take people out for drinks, an American company takes people out for dinner - and that's great, so long as you know when to stop, and I, apparently, don't. So I guess it's the same problem. Some people drink too much and get drunk. Some people eat too much. I seemingly, am getting quite good at the latter.
The downside to this is that I have made no progress on my muffin face-off (sorry Stuart) as I haven't been able to face the thought of eating anything. In fact, after yesterday's lunch, I haven't actually had dinner or breakfast and I'm still not hungry. The office lunch-break is thirty minutes away and I'm scared.
The corresponding upshot to this is that I've been to the gym. I'm quite like to pause for dramatic effect, but I don't think I can. Yesterday evening I spent two hours (2 HOURS!) trying to work out, and if my mental arithmetic was right (and after two hours on a treadmill it might not have been) I burned off 1000 calories. Which is roughly equivalent to one of the chicken dumplings I had for lunch. Small steps. Small steps.
So America, you're showing me a great time, but please, for all our sakes, can we lay off the entrees?
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