The Filling Cabinet

Every office has one, a filling cabinet, they are the bane of the life of anyone who is trying to watch their weight.

  Now before you e-mail me, to say I’ve spelt it wrong, it should be “filing cabinet”, I’d like to point out that offices have both, you’ve probably just never realised that what’s it called.

 Allow me to explain, the “FILING Cabinet”, is a big silver thing that contains all the crap no one is really sure what to do with, it’s the thing you sort out in that period between Christmas & New Year when you have nothing else to do.

  The "FILLING” Cabinet is also all of the above, but it’s the cabinet where any food bought into the office is placed.

  Cakes for people’s birthday, left over buffet from a board meeting, the holiday sweets from Ben in accounts trip to Magaluf.

  The FILLING Cabinet is the Joker to the dieter’s Batman, the Moriarty to the Weight Watcher’s Sherlock, the Phil Mitchell to the slimmer’s Ian Beale….. you get the point, it’s their nemesis!!!

  This morning when I arrived at work, some kind of cake and chocolate fairy had obviously been at work overnight. The FILLING cabinet was awash with chocolate muffins, doughnut, Quality Street and biscuits! As I hurried by them to the kitchen to make a brew.

Devil Katie was shouting.....

“Do you know what goes well with a brew? A Chocolate muffin”

Angel Katie, had my back though…

“You said that Christmas would start on Christmas Eve and until then you would stick to your diet”

Devil Katie tried a different tact…

“You’re already fat, what difference will one chocolate muffin make”

As I picked up my brew and walked out the kitchen, I paused briefly by the muffins.

And then I walked away…..

Do you know what also goes well with a brew? A satsuma (It doesn’t, but it’s better for me when I get on the scales!)

Sometimes You've Got to Crack a lot of Eggs!

I am 16 days into my 21-day plan to make sure that someone in my list of priorities I come first…. I reckon that for about 12 of those days, it’s been the case. The days it hasn’t happened, I’ve checked myself and put it right the following day… it’s a learning curve right?

  So far in the 16 days, there have been trips to the gym, dog walks, reading, watching films, catching up with friends and some evenings where I’ve allowed myself to give into how tired I am and just unashamedly got into bed at 7pm and slept!

  My 21 day KT plan has also involved making sure that I eat right, so I’ve invested in a couple of cook books.

  This is what I’ve leant, if its green it’s good for you (green jelly babies don’t count) if it’s some form of protein that’s good for you and don’t be scared of fat, some fats are good for you.

SORTED!

  I’ve also learnt that already slinky people cook from scratch! They use things like Tahini and turmeric and tender-stem broccoli, which is apparently different from tough-stemmed broccoli. See I’m learning stuff.

  I now eat a lot of stuff cooked in a slow cooker or a wok, I work on the “shove it all in and let it cook” method and so far my one pot culinary skills have not let me down!

  Today though, today I got cocky! One of my favourite things in the world is dippy eggs and because I don’t have time to eat them in a morning, I sometimes have them for lunch. Check me out with my lunchtime protein, which keeps me full till teatime.

 Today I thought I’d step it up a gear, I’d seen this recipe where you got some large mushrooms and then you cracked an egg into the mushroom, added a bit of ham and cooked them. They looked nice, they looked easy to do and they were healthy!

Things I have learnt today…. Cracking an egg into a mushroom is not easy!

It Was the Weekends That Got Us Into Trouble...

I’ve been having a sort out this week and I found this sign hiding in a draw. Maybe I'd put it there to try and hide the guilt it made me feel!

It struck me that where my Slinky mission is concerned, this has very much been the case. Monday to Friday I behave impeccably, planning my meals, trying to exercise as much as I can and accounting for everything I eat. Monday to Friday, I am the perfect Weight Watcher.

Then Saturday arrives, screeching in like Lewis Hamilton for a pit stop, when he knows Nico Rosberg could take the lead and blow his chances of winning!

Only my Lewis brings wine and takeaway! 

  One quick drink in the pub, whilst out walking the dog turns into a bottle (for us, not him) And Saturday night tele for some reason has become a special occasion that can only be celebrated by drinking more wine and ordering pizza. The pizza is normally ordered after we’ve had dinner and are awoken by a loud banging on the door, where we discover Pete (everyone’s favourite pizza delivery man) stood at the door with a large seafood and a portion of cheesy chips!

  Well not this time! This time, I decided that if I were going to give myself the best chance of being fabulously Slinky by the time I’m 40, next July, then I needed to bid Pete (everyone’s favourite pizza delivery man) farewell and enjoy my weekends without ENJOYING my weekends too much! Which in fairness, now my weigh day is a Sunday, I don't have the option of trying to rectify my wrongs the early part of the week!

  So I took charge! Friday night, Lucy and I went out for a meal and wine! However, we’d checked out the menu beforehand and knew what we were having. It was on my tracker before I even stepped into the restaurant. There was also wine, but again all within my points and there was lemonade!

  Saturday, involved a long dog walk with Cyril and Saturday night’s dinner was planned and prepared before the wine was open and again everything was pointed.

  On Sunday morning something weird happened, I got up early and went to zumba and then took Cyril for a walk! By the time lunchtime had arrived, I’d done over 12,000 steps and earned 10 bonus points! So a wander around town to see the Christmas lights being switched on, meant that I could indulge in this little beauty.

Only if you're from Mansfield, will you understand the true joy of cockles, mushy peas and mint sauce from the market place. (Don't judge it, until you've tried it!)

  So when I stepped on the scales and it showed that I’d lost 4 pounds, I was so proud of myself. I was proud for lots of reasons. I’d been in control of the weekend, it hadn't controlled me and I’d had a really good time, done all the things I enjoyed and still managed to lose weight!

  I know it’s just the first weekend and I’m sure at some point, there’ll be a late night knock from Pete (everyone's favourite pizza delivery man) with a large seafood, and a portion of cheesy chips, but not right now!

The Bitch Box

If I were one for using bad language, there would be a stream of expletives to describe the week I’ve just had. Monday was the culmination of a lot of dastardly deeds done by others last year, which basically meant a project I was involved in with, could no longer continue. Monday was “D Day” and after many MANY tears, I figured the best way to cheer myself up was to eat!

  Anyone, who like me tries to solve their problems with food, will know that when the chips are down, they normally end up in your gob!

    On Monday I had a real sense of emptiness and so although I started the day well (fruit and yogurt)  at lunchtime I found myself eating fish and chips (that’s normally what happens when you decide to head to the chippy), then in the afternoon, there was ice cream (a tub of Ben and Jerrys) and then in the evening, my Dad took us out for dinner, so my starter was some sort of fried fish platter followed by a gourmet burger (for gourmet read as much stuff as it’s possible to get onto a burger in a cob, cheese, bacon, onion rings, bit more cheese) and then chocolate cake for pudding. This was all washed down with a vast quantity of red wine.

 I still went to bed feeling generally pretty shitty, although that could have been my not to wise food and drink choices.

  On Tuesday when I woke up, I still felt rubbish and getting on the scales was the equivalent of checking out pictures of your ex-boyfriend’s new girlfriend. You know it’s going to hurt, but the sadomasochist in you does it anyway!

  Sitting chatting to my sister Lucy later in the day, we launched into a full on bitch session, anyone and everyone who’d even remotely upset us got a pasting and so once again by mid-afternoon we were pretty miserable.

  As we sat there staring blankly into cups of tea, I reminded Lucy that as advocates of “The Secret” we were being pretty rubbish. All the horrible things we were saying, were just feeding other horrible negative situations and we needed to stop. Yes we’d had a really rubbish time, but it was time to get over it! The situation may have dominated our lives for the last 10 months, but it wasn't going to dominate our futures.

 So we decided to invent this……please meet the “Bitch Box”

Every time one of us says something negative or has a negative emotion, then 20p has to go into the box.

These are rules. 

  The last few months have given me an insight as to who my friends really are. The people you think will be there for you never are and say stuff like;

But then on the flipside, there’s the friends who turn up with a random bunch of flowers because it might cheer you up, or send you a text telling you that they’re thinking of you, or who bring round wine and say “lets drink wine till our heads spin” They’re the friends I’m really grateful for.

  After the introduction of the Bitch Box, which I think has about £1.80 in it, I do feel a bit better. I’ve given myself (yet another) good talking to and reminded myself that we all make mistakes in life and it’s how we learn from those mistakes that matter.