It's amazing how much weight you can put on in three months. So amazing I couldn't even write down the amount, never mind say it out loud. It hurts even to think about it. Of course, I firmly believe that my convalescence is responsible. Being very obedient, I'm making an occupation of taking it easy, resting and putting my feet up.
Suffice it to say that I can no longer get into any of my clothes. Well, I exaggerate: I can still get into one pair of trousers, one pair of jeans and one skirt (two at a push, but only on a very good day). It's most depressing. And indeed worrying: I'll be back at work soon with nothing to wear. Eeeew.
It doesn't help that one of the best ways for me to take it easy, rest and put up my feet is curling up in my favourite armchair with a cat on my knee, reading, drinking coffee and eating chocolate to good music. Bliss.
Especially in a world of modern technology: groceries are delivered directly into my flat, cosmetics are flown in from the UK (the Boots (unrivalled) Natural Collection), cat litter and food are all on-line. I don't actually have to move anywhere to maintain the status quo. Which explains the size of my thighs.
And then there's Amazon. Ahhhh! Amazon. I am a complete and utter addict. Amazon.co.uk Amazon.fr Amazon.de Amazon.com I'm not fussy. Well, I am actually. Just not when it comes to Amazon. It gives me the music, the books, the DVDs, and now the coffee and chocolate too! What more could a girl need?
My latest acquisition was a pack of Cadbury's Wispa bars. Delivered to my very door. Of course, they were without doubt the most expensive Wispa bars in the world, postage included. But they made all the difference to my Guy de Maupassant short stories. And were devoured in the space of the opening three.
I've just discovered GdM. On my reading list. What an artist! Vivid, pithy, perceptive, lively. Dark. Another realist. Another must. Like I say, I'm discovering. I'm presently finishing a volume of 33 of his short stories and I'm told he wrote over 300. But I'm loving them. And short stories provide perfect intervals to break regularly for more coffee and chocolate. Like I say, perfect. My heart valves are closing as I write. But I'll die happy...