I’ve already written about how I broke my self-imposed mince pie embargo (note to self: excellent title for next year’s NaNoWriMo…). This evening further illustrated my lack of self-control as I sat down in this hotel room to order room service.
I’m back in a familiar hotel, where I’ve stayed many, many nights when traveling for work. I know its room service menu like the back of my hand. (Quite like Alan Partridge, but with less hair. Sadly.)
Despite flicking back and forward through the menu, with all the best of intentions, I made the phone call and reverted to type: a massive dirty burger is on its way to my room. No salad for me, no sir.
This is despite my almost complete lack of exercise since the Royal Parks Half-Marathon and my pretty sedentary work life recently. I know I need to eat less if I want to lose some of this flab – just in time for me to put it all back on in the form of mince pies and turkey over the ‘festive’ period.
And even though I enjoyed a tasty little lunch in Yo! Sushi earlier this afternoon, by the time I got off my train in Cheltenham, only one thing was on my mind: dirty, filthy burger.
However, instead of getting too down and introspective about the whole thing, I think I’ll forgive myself and judge a load of complete strangers for being disgustingly messy – it’s time for Obsessive-Compulsive Cleaners.