I am not Gandhi.
Because of (work eat work) and (eat work eat), I recently dawned upon a huge revelation. Last Saturday, I was all ready to doll up and head to town for a cheerful weekend shopping trip with a very lovely friend. I ransacked my wardrobe and grabbed hold of a dress that used to be my all time favourite. It took me some slight effort to finally pull it down my lower body. When i looked into the mirror, my ass looked like the face of a helpless individual getting squashed in the morning peak-hour train.
Due to this realistic shock, i decided to take things into perspective and accepted that it is high time to start going on a solemn and utterly strict diet.
I thought i made it through by consuming only porridge for lunch. At 4:30pm today, my stomach growled like a hungry tiger trapped in a cave for 30 days ready to attack all living meat on earth. It was a struggle to continuously instill disciplinary dietary messages into my hungry brain. Eventually when i reached home at 8pm, i totally gave up on life. and my ass.
TWO PACKETS OF MAGGIE MEE.
ONE BIG PLATE OF FRIED RICE.
ONE WHOLE PLATE OF STIR-FRIED SCALLOPS WITH VEG.
TWO BOWLS OF CHICKEN SOUP.
THREE CHICKEN WINGS.
ONE PLATE OF STEAMED EGG WITH MINCED PORK.
TWO GLASSES OF WHITE WINE.
Today, my diet officially started. Today, my diet officially ended.