I Bought a Kilo of Peanut Butter
I thought I'd learned my lesson about buying food in bulk after the 5 kg bag of sugar. Turns out I'd learned the wrong one.
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I thought I'd learned my lesson about buying food in bulk after the 5 kg bag of sugar. Turns out I'd learned the wrong one.
A joke on Mock the Week's 2026 summer special landed harder than it should have, because it described a way of eating I genuinely didn't know existed. Then I noticed I do the opposite too.
I'm not really a chocolate person, but I've been eating less, the chocolate's still in the fridge, and somebody has forgotten the rule. Two bars of 85% cocoa are now the most difficult thing in the kitchen.
Shepherd's pie from the freezer, plenty of vegetables, and then I stopped. The old ritual was a pie-and-gravy sandwich on buttered bread, then more bread to mop up the gravy. Tonight I didn't follow it, and my brain has filed a complaint.
I want to move better, and the plan is Tai Chi in the front room. The hard part isn't the movements. It's being seen doing something that feels unfamiliar and slightly ridiculous.
14 st 5 lb this morning. Thirty-three pounds down from where I started, which is about three bags of sugar, which I can now feel on the bike.
Lasagne, salad, garlic bread and two leftover onion bhajis from a Friday night takeaway. Mounjaro had made me forget to eat lunch, so the bhajis had one remaining window, and it was Saturday dinner.
I never thought I'd be someone who injects themselves with medication. Then I remembered who taught me it wasn't a big deal, and it wasn't even a person.
The bubble the syringe left in my thigh was medication, not air — but it got me wondering what would actually happen if it had been air. Turns out that's a more interesting question than I expected.
It isn't cheap, and I've been worrying about what happens when I stop it. Then I did the maths and found what looks suspiciously like a loophole.