Like a horse refusing to enter the starting gates, I can't face the scales this week.
Cheese and chocolate have returned with a vengeance, along with pre-exam tension levels somewhere in the stratosphere.
But I promise myself (and Dr Mom) that, 4 March over (including the celebratory dinner promised by Beloved Spouse), I will not only return to the calorific straight and narrow but I will also reintroduce myself to the gym and/or swimming pool.
Promises, promises.
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It's tough to be "good" when you are under a lot of pressure. But less than a week to go!
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