This is just a quick post as Tom’s been away this past week, and I’ve had the flat to myself. Normally when this happens, I loosen the belt on my domestic partnership duties and become a 10-year-old. My clothes end up migrating to the kitchen. The remains of supper (crisp packets and beer bottles) stay on the living room floor for days. None of the washing gets done. And I usually leave all the lights on. All the time. Then about an hour before the other person is due home, I become the Tazmanian devil of cleaning. When he reenters the flat, I lead my significant other to believe that I have been the picture of health, restraint, and discipline all week.
(Frisee salad with snap peas, pear, dried currants, goat cheese, and poached egg)
Except this week was different. Perhaps it’s because I’ve already had the big blow out. I’ve been travelling quite a bit, and I’ve been able to drink and eat until I have literally poisoned my insides. Some days have been so lazy and sedentary that the most exercise I’ve done all day is getting up to go to the loo. So this week, I turned over a new leaf. Most nights I was in bed by 10pm. Early morning yoga was the start to every day. And unless I was invited to a social gathering, I decided to skip the restaurants and cook every meal for myself. I also decided to go vegetarian. For the most part, I was able to stay on the wagon with the exception of one night of retardedly heavy drinking. I cheated a hangover recovery meal with a bit of chorizo.
(Hangover cure: chorizo, tomato, goat cheese, and coriander scramble)
The good thing about being alone this week is that it’s allowed me to develop some new habits without distraction. Plus, it’s easy to be healthy when eating for one. It’s a ball ache to prepare an entire meatloaf and mash potatoes for just yourself, so a momentary craving doesn’t end up becoming a gut bomb later. Also to make it less tempting to get take away, I did a bulk shop at Central market at the beginning of the week. I stocked my fridge with ingredients that were versatile enough to use many different ways. When I got home, it was easy to whip up something quick and healthy. And this was a new one to me, but I actually ate the leftovers this time. Leftovers. I must be ill.
(Leftovers: Pearl barley, snap peas, mushrooms, and zucchini)
So what’s the moral of the story? Must we ditch the loved one for a road to wellness? Or worse. Have I finally, at the age of 33, learned to grow up and become a responsible adult (gasp)?
(Top picture: Breakfast of mango, banana, kiwi, yogurt, and muesli)