Here we are again at that time of the year when any hope of not piling on the weight just becomes about as easy to monitor as the checking the night skies waiting for UFO to appear.
The only possible way to prevent yourself from obtaining a Santa style stomach is to politely refuse every Christmas related invitation until all of the tinsels and baubles are packed away again for another year. Essentially it’s the decision that results in having everyone you know think your New Year’s Resolution is nipping them all in the bud.
While most of us would know that the smartest way to lose weight is to hit the treadmill, head to pilates or start sprinting Husain Bolt style around the block, when you’re in a state of fat panic, terrified of being given the once over ‘Wow, she’s let herself go!’, we make rash decisions.
The sort of idiotic decisions to get slim fast as I made the other week.
I woke in the morning and whacked on a dress I hadn’t worn for a while. The relationship between myself and this particularly dress had become obviously quite strained.
I sauntered into the kitchen with what was less than a spring in my step, which was already a shame as that spring may have helped me shed .100 of a kilo. A herbal tea and some toast to get me through the day seemed like a great idea at the time. Unfortunately due to my herbal tea obsession and my current state of mental anguish, I shuffled through 100 or so choices until I came to one that I wished had never been there at all.
It was Chinese in origin and it was calling itself SLIMMERS TEA. I’d bought it years ago after a brief chat with a friend who was a model and had a figure I’d violently wrestle her for. She claimed it was the tea models often use to keep them ahead of the bikini pack. Sounded fabulous to me
I’d always been a bit suspicious of it but when one is in desperate mode, it’s amazing how intelligence can be pushed up the back of the shelf with the teas I don’t normally use. So I popped a little teabag in my cup of hot water and gulped it back.
What was an extra interesting element to my choice this day was the fact that I was due to do the Nine News Now chat room later that afternoon so possibly not the time to test things related to my bladder or bowel.
As I hopped in the car on my way to the studio, I was overcome with the intense, and I mean….intense, desire to let’s just say, rip out my lower torso. Kind of at level that got close to me passing out behind the wheel actually.
‘Oh…my…goodness, what have I done?’ I screamed in my mind. Of all the days I could become a diet drongo, I chose the day I’d be on national television.
The pain endured as I frantically parked my car in the Nine car park and then walked noticeably hunch backed up to the reception desk. I announced myself trying to disguise my complete misery and then quickly asked where the nearest ladies room was located.
I then prayed like I think I’ve never prayed before that the Chinese dragon inside my stomach would chill out so I didn’t become the next global video sensation as I appeared live on television, making comments about Justin Bieber’s graffiti incident, only to then turn white and drop down out of shot onto the studio floor.
I made it only just from being a national laughing stock, and thanks to this disastrous diet decision I am now looking more fondly at my developing merry muffin top.
The moral is, if someone tells you you’re going to drop weight fast and become Australia’s Next Top Model, just be aware that you may be losing your mind, as quickly as your waistline.