The undeniable link between the heart and the stomach

I’m back at work tonight. Overtime, because someone’s mum has just died or something. I have no girlfriend now, so I figured why not work?

The diet seems to be going quite well. I’d like to say it’s because I have stunning will-power, a determination to succeed, and an overwhelming desire to be fit and toned in time for summer, but it isn’t that. It’s because I’m heartbroken. Every time I wake up my first thought is always about Donna. Up to last weekend, that thought used to fill me with joy and light a fire of possibilities in my heart and life, but now it just fills me with bile. I can’t stop myself replaying the horrible conversation we had on our last evening together. Then I feel sick and emotional, and the thought of eating anything abandons me for several hours as I wallow in self-pity and stare at her picture on my phone.
Bloody women.
Not only has she left me feeling worthless, unattractive and damaged, but she’s taken away the one thing that might have made me feel better in this time of despair and self-loathing – my urge to binge on junk food. Not even the thought of Crunchies melted on top of toffee flavoured ice-cream can stimulate my juices enough to want to eat. I might just fade away to nothing while she counts down the days until she can return to her Nottingham-based Romeo and love him.
Bloody women.
Who was it who once said ‘If Man spent as much time on research as he spends on chasing fanny, we’d have an eternally-lasting lightbulb and a cure for AIDS by now.’
I think it was probably me.
Bloody women.

RC 3-1-09
0925 BST