That post yesterday was a little premature it seems.
Self-pity doesn't really go away. It just sits there waiting for you to get a little tired, or for something small to not go your way, and then it pounces again.
I hate being miserable and feeling sorry for myself. It's pathetic and fills me with lots of healthy self-loathing. But I call up the boy when it happens and he takes the piss in a gentle sort of way, or makes a stupid joke, and it goes away again. At least for a bit.
Back at my parents after escaping to Hereford. I managed to drive myself in my mother's tiny Malaysian car which cost her nothing, does 50 mpg and feels like you're driving a dodgem. It was weird to drive but had power steering so the arm/boob felt ok. My knackered old Peugeot with its stiff, very non-power steering would have been quite different!
This afternoon it's a coach ride back to London and hopefully my Waitrose shopping will turn up on time (Ocado due to deliver between 10-11pm) so I will have a fresh load of red things and healthy food for the week ahead. I tell you what, cancer is proving very useful for giving me that kick up the arse I needed on eating better. Life always felt too short before to pay too much attention to eating like a rabbit and not indulging when you feel like indulging. Now however, the fact that life feels just that little bit shorter means I am truly motivated to seek out lots of high fibre, plenty of antioxidants, aiming to hit that 9 a day rather than the paltry 3 a day I probably managed before.
I will swiftly become very dull. But at least I may lose some weight out of this. I've never been vain enough to do so before just for aesthetic reasons and your health always seems so easy to hold onto when you have it.
But there are downsides to the new diet... Lets hope the coach has a loo.