Firstly, because I didn't have time on Friday to post it: I weighed in at 13st 6.8lb this week - a solid loss of 2.8lbs from the previous week and slightly better than I was hoping for, which was great.
With that happy news in my pocket, I packed all my gear in my friend Annie's car and we cheerfully set off down the M5 to Cornwall, bound for the Leopallooza festival near Bude.
Festivals: a dieter's worst nightmare. You're camping, so there's no fridge or way to keep fresh food cool. Everything gets packed and squashed in the car, so anything delicate doesn't last long (I learned that the hard way ... the banana's were declared dead en route). Most meals aren't even being home-cooked (camp-cooked?) but catered for with whatever's available at the festival. And finally, there's booze. Lots and lots of booze.
I won't deny it was tricky - breakfast options were heavily censored, because we couldn't keep milk or meat cool, and when it was hot this weekend it was HOT! We had a BBQ the first night, which I kept relatively in hand, I avoided snacking, and I was delighted to discover that spirits and diet mixers were readily available at the festival bar, but other than that eating and drinking was rather relaxed.
On the other hand, from Sunday onwards I knuckled back down, and so was impressed to see not too much impact on the scales on Monday.
Other than that, the festival was great!!! My first ever proper festival and it was so much fun. Good music, great people and a lovely setting. Can't wait for the next one!
For the record - that pitta contained bbq'd pepper, mushroom and light halloumi cheese and a dollop of humous, which seriously turns out to be the best combo EVER!!! Try it - you won't regret it!!
Monday was gloriously relaxed as I had the day off and went surfing at Rest Bay with Clare. The surf was pretty shit, but the weather was nice and the gossiping was good :-)
One unexpected side effect of the surfing was that my bathroom scales then got broken. Unfortunately, one of my flatmates moved my still dripping wetsuit out of the shower cubicle, where it had been rinsed when I got home, and hung it on the outside while they had a shower in the evening. Sadly, my scales also live propped up against the outside of the shower, and consequently they spent several hours being dripped on. Extensively. It turns out that's not very good for them. Yesterday morning they read 14 and a half stone, and I guessed what had happened. Then 14 and three quarters when I took the batteries out and replaced them. Dead.
So new scales it is, and what do you know - my old scales might have been a little bit out for a while now, as my shiny new Weightwatchers scales put me at 13st 4.5lb this morning. Sort of a cheaty loss, but very cheering none the less!
Other than all that, I'm being an organisational demon at the moment. After finally unpacking the last of my stuff after the move (back in Feb, ahem) and doing a load of chucking out over the last couple of weeks, I've now got round to doing all the paperwork for my PPI claim and even forms for joining the doctors practice up the road from me. I'm not going to lie - I love feeling all pro-active like this and getting all this shit sorted - things that have been hanging over my head for so long.
I was thinking about finally getting on with my PPI claim last week, but the Boy gave me a little nudge yesterday and so I finally stopped procrastinating and got all the forms from online. Honestly, I'm a little bit scared, because right now I can think of my claim as this ephemeral amount that in theory I can claim back - I don't have the money, but the possibility's there. However, when I make my claim, they can say "no" and destroy that possibility.
It sounds strange, but I've lived so long with the idea that I might be able to get that money back, that asking and possibly being rejected actually seems really scary now. But hey, it's not doing me any good as a theoretical amount, and if I don't ask, I don't get.
So here goes nothing!!!
- Posted from my iPhone
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