Too Old...

The dieting is progressing along quite nicely and the Squeeze and I are already feeling the benefits of being baby whales instead momma whales. 

Of course the reality is that even if we just slumped back into our “over cater/eat too much” lives, we would lose weight; given what we have consumed over the last week or two.  We are talking a Simpson episode…  “Come for the freak, stay for the food” sketch.  We are the freaks. 

Yet here we are, pretty much in diet land, so those first few kilo’s are coming off with relative ease.

We have all done the diet merry-go-around a million times before…  Those first few kilos are always easy.  It is next week that I expect we will hit a wall; and that is ok.  We are not going over the top and intend to give ourselves a little leeway on the weekends (for me, that is wine…); but even on the weekend, we will attempt to keep a rein on it. (Attempt…)

Those first few kilos’ make a difference; if not to how we look, at least how we feel.

I no longer feel as though if I fell onto my back, I’d be stuck there, pathetically thrashing my arms and legs like a turtle.   I’m pretty certain that now I could get some sort of rocking motion going and manage to hoist myself into a roll, crawl, crouch kind of thing and gain my feet.

As the feeling of bloat diminishes, the amatory mood escalates so the Squeeze, in un-squeeze-like fashion, has been hot to trot each night.  Having said that, his idea of foreplay is basically pouncing on me so there is no “mood setting” happening.  I’m not walking in the door to dinner, candles and Barry White.

The trouble with this is that he is loath to relinquish control of the television.  Woe and behold he should miss something; so there is no early nights happening.

This morning, while yawning, he turned to me and said “I’m too old to have late night sex…”  Where the hell did I get this guy from?