There's nothing like coming home for Christmas. The family. The presents. The good food... Oh no, wait. Scratch that last one. Because I am being forced to go on a diet. Why?
Well, while in Ghana, I managed to contract malaria. And typhoid. (I know, I skipped that, but who likes hearing vomit stories?) It was pretty bad while it lasted, but upon returning to London, fully recovered (and ten pounds lighter), I was looking forward to stuffing my face in a way that is only acceptable during the holidays.
I didn't realise I'd be held hostage by my stomach. Like a reverse grinch, it has apparently shrunk three sizes. Or more.
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| Insert evil laugh here. |
So at the moment, an average meal for me tends to look like this:
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| I'm so full. |
The most annoying part is that I still feel hungry. I just can't eat more than baby mouse. Apparently this is normal, and my appetite should be back soon. But in the meantime, I can revel in the fact that it only takes me eight hours to eat a Crunch bar. Silver linings!
