I hate the word diet.
It reeks of ‘I’m looking for a secret to fix my problems and please don’t point out all the weight I will put on after this diet is over’.
I’ve never been on a fad diet. Simply because I hate the word.
And I know they ultimately fail. It’s not a secret. Ask someone who has been on one. Enough said.
It’s more than just no carbs/sugar, but that’s the basics of it. It’s also a way of life for those that follow it.
No faddy dieting here, Sir.
(Side note: Thank you MAY for gracing us with an extra day. 30-day quest sounds way sexier).
And after 31 days? My skin will glow, my body will rock, and I’ll be skilled enough to shoot a curve bullet from a gun Angela-Jolie-in-Wanted style.
Or something equally as awesome as that.
It’s day 26 and I am finally through the misery phase.
You know, that phase where you want to eat murder some bread, know you can’t, and ultimately want to slam it in the face of the person who offered it to you?
And that point when you realise who really supports you.
HINT: It’s not someone who says ‘if it’s making you miserable, just have some fries. You’ll feel better’. IT’S A FUCKING EXPERIMENT! WHAT KIND OF LOSER WOULD I BE IF I STOPPED WHEN IT GOT A LITTLE TOUGH?
Excuse me whilst I go chew on a carrot to cool off.
I don’t know why I didn’t try this experiment stuff before. It’s totally me. Oh hang on, I have. I experimented with weird sleeping patterns.
But that, chum, is a tale for another day.
This stuff sounds like my slice of pie lime-coated avocado.
I am really friggin bloody minded. Or determined. Or stupid. Those wonderful qualities combined make me a perfect candidate for this experiment stuff.
I enjoy being uncomfortable (no, not that kind of uncomfortable). Living in Paris where there are more Patisseries than people and I’m going all-out no carbs? BRING IT.
I relish it when people think I am weird. Who else would ignore sushi-Tuesday in the office cafeteria and opt for a salad instead? What are you all staring at?
I totally hate following the crowd. On Friday’s there’s always a colour theme in the office where we all wear something of the same colour. It sparks camaraderie, or fun, or other such technicolour-Disney-level-vomit-inducing team building barf.
There are some Friday’s when I just don’t bother. It’s all a little too….preppy. And preppy makes my skin crawl.
Helpful little experiments like this show people for who they really are. Not just me in my 26-days-and-counting commitment (the halo is on its way). But those so-called supportive friends who nudge you in the right direction by suggesting a freakin’ PASTA PLACE for lunch.
And the biggest lesson of all? I can apply this to anything. ANYTHING, I tell you!
- Write to one new person I’ve connected to on Twitter daily
- Wake up at 5.30am everyday including weekends to write
- Give up watching TV
And if it doesn’t yield results, I can move on. It’s only 31 days out of my whole life.
What’s the worst that can happen (that hypnotherapy can’t erase)?
And what does this have to do with finding your dream job?
Think exploring what works rather than just analysing the theory
Think of something too – then add it in the comments