Peter Patter cartoon for 18/1/19
Peter Patter cartoon for 18/1/19 Ryan

Another year, another January, another bloody diet

I HATE January!

It's the same every year.

Having pigged out on food and beverage throughout December in the lead-up to Christmas and then followed by the indulgences of the New Year celebrations, January comes as a sobering shock.

Every year in the lead-up to Christmas I berate myself that this time I'm not to be over indulging on the tucker and grog, but every year that sentiment goes out the window with every invitation to work, family or mates' Christmas parties.

I'm one of those people who doesn't like seeing food go to waist (pun intended) but I only have to as much look at a Christmas pudding and I put on 2kg.

You'd think after all these years I would be more disciplined, you know a case of "mind over platter" but no, self discipline was the first thing to be discarded when I approached the festive season.

Despite feeling the waistline expanding over the Christmas/New Year season, I kept telling myself "Come, New Year's Day, I'm going on a strict diet".

Of course, that doesn't happen until about January 5 or 6 when we realise we really have to do something about our girth if only to squeeze back into the work pants.

Feeling fat and sluggish after a hectic December, I took one look in the mirror and thought "I'm thick and tired of the festive season".

And so suddenly it was January 5, and I'd decided it was time to shed that unwanted extra beef gained over the Christmas/New Year period… or was that just wishful shrinking?

I have a few mates who wait until February to fast, during which time they stay away from alcohol and concentrate on healthy eating.

They boast that February being the shortest month it's easier to get through without the grog or steak and chips.

But who are they kidding? What difference does a couple of days make to any other month of the calendar?

No, I reckon it's best to get stuck in before my girth gets any wider which it would if I waited until February.

The thing is, I absolutely hate dieting as was evident by my expression when my doctor this very week warned I had to shed some kilos for the sake of my health.

Easy for some skinny woman to say, the heaviest part of her being her stethoscope.

She even accused of me of having a fat neck and a fat tongue. I kid you not!

Of course, she's right and she was talking about a potentially serious health problem which can arise from both a fat neck and fat tongue.

But while I might be able to drop a couple of collar sizes during the dieting process, I doubt there's much I can do about my tongue size.

After all, as anyone who knows me will attest, my tongue is the most exercised part of my body so if it's fat now, it will most likely be staying that way sans plastic surgery.

But I've taken her advice on board and so it's back to vegetables, fruit, fish and water for the interim until the body gets back into some sort of shape.

I know, "round is a shape", but I don't think that's exactly what the good doctor had in mind.

My new healthy shopping list will no doubt be welcomed by Betros Bros, Bevan and Murray, on whose produce I will be relying heavily, but I fear for the fate of my preferred pub, pizzeria and bakery whose businesses could be in receivership by the time my weight returns to that which would be acceptable to my doctor.

Trouble is, I'm on holidays in February.

Maybe I might have to join the aforementioned delusional mates who fast during the second month of the year because it's the shortest.

Maybe those couple of days are more important than I'd give them credit for.