As you are reading this, please picture me stretching and burping contently, like a satisfied newborn.
On second thought…don’t. Just imagine how relaxed and happy I am after all this time off. And how stuffed and bloated I feel after five days of food, food, and more food.
Christmas Eve was alright. My dinner was fanbloodytastic, even though I cringed when I was touching the raw meat. I think with all the sauce hollandaise and the cream in the dessert, I fed myself just about the same amount of calories that a baby elephant needs to walk from here down to South Africa. Roughly. It was worth it, though. It’s a shame I cook so rarely because I really am quite good at it. I’m definitely not the water burner type.
If I thought my Christmas Eve dinner was massive, though, I felt slightly better listening to my friend’s tale. She’s Polish and apparently, they have a tradition in Poland that says to wait until the first star can be seen on Christmas Eve and then you start eating. Twelve courses. Without break. And not just tiny snacks, either. Full courses. Soup, mains, desserts…full plates. According to my friend, she couldn’t even walk afterwards. Suddenly, my filet and panna cotta sound like light snacks.
The unwrapping and unboxing of gifts was nice as usual but I really do notice that I’m an adult now when it comes to this because it’s not the one and only thing I look forward to anymore. My mom gave me a Tomas Sabo charm, a Pegasus. I’ve only been throwing in the word ‘Pegasus’ in conversation at random times for about a year so she would remember. And trust me, it is not very easy to find reasons to bring ‘Pegasus’ in. We don’t really discuss Greek mythology a lot in our family, believe it or not. So for the most part I kept telling her about the tattoo of him I want (not the serious kind of adult, obviously!) and at one point, there was even talk of her paying for a part of that. But I don’t know, it makes me really uncomfortable when she does that. She paid for a part of my last tattoo and it felt strange. I know she hates tattoos and while I appreciate her trying not to give me long rants about how only criminals and prostitutes have tattoos, I don’t want her to pay for something she disagrees with, either. So the charm is just fine.
Christmas Day and Boxing Day were spent sitting on my butt. I didn’t leave the house once. I didn’t stop eating, either. I don’t know about traditions in other countries but in Germany, we get a plate or bowl full of candy and treats. The idea is to eat a piece here and there and it’ll last you into the new year. Weeeelll…I almost emptied mine in those two days. And barely ate anything else. Not only the intake of calories is shocking but also my laziness. Rather than taking the five minutes it’d take to make myself a sandwich or a bowl of cereals, I had chocolate for breakfast.
Then, on the 27th, the horror story continued when I met my friend for lunch. We met at noon and I slept so late, I didn’t even have breakfast. So, my breakfast were fried chicken, peppers and cheese from the Chinese buffet. Afterwards, we went shopping and I put myself to more shame when I bought shoes, books and cosmetics and then had some froyo and a drink from Starbucks.
And the next day, I met yet another friend for yet another Chinese buffet meal (what is it about my friends being obsessed with Chinese? I’m not even such a big fan!).
Needless to say I feel like Miss Piggy. I haven’t even stepped near my scale in weeks. I am blushing just thinking about it. Whenever I enter the bathroom, I can feel it glaring at me. So it was this kind of shame that made me go on yet another shopping spree yesterday and I bought a sports bra. For some reason, my mom even bought me a yoga mat. She’d wanted to buy one for herself and because they were on sale, she bought one for me, too, despite my protests. I’m not being ungrateful here but I’m running out storage space so I would have preferred to borrow hers. But anyway, now I had a (breathtakingly tight but bright pink) sports bra, a yoga mat, 0.5kg weights and the 30 Day Shred DVD, so there was no excuse. Today, I let my shame talk me into giving it a try.
I am so freaking embarrassed that my cats had to witness this!!!!
I started with level one (obviously), and I made it through about ten minutes before I started feeling sick, seeing stars and hearing a ringing in my ears that came close to the one and only time I nearly fainted in hospital. I watched the rest of the workout from the couch, unable to move, let alone get up. For about three hours afterwards, my legs were shaking. My knees felt like they were giving in with every step. Jillian Michaels well and truly whipped my butt!!! I wasn’t able to move but my mind was coming up with quite colorful ideas of what I wanted to do to her and her two sidekicks. Especially the skinny one with the amazing abs who never got out of breath or showed any signs of exhaustion but was still doing the “easy” version of the workouts. Bah!!! I know I have to keep doing it and it will get easier and blablabla but today, I seriously wanted to die. How is it so easy to gain weight and so hard to lose it? I’m not sure I’ll even make it out of bed tomorrow…