Willpower
It's a wonderful thing, willpower. The ability to stop yourself doing stuff that you enjoy because you know you shouldn't. Unfortunately, I don't seem to have any.
No... I'm not going to admit to having had a massive relapse into smoking. Nor have I developed a drink habit. Instead, my downfall is home-made cakes and pastries of the type sold by the quaint little village shops here in Bakewell in the beautiful Peak District. See, in my bid to get more organised, I seem to have got myself into a weird sort of mental agreement with myself whereby if I forget to make my lunch for the day, I have to then go and buy far too much lunch at one of these lovely places. Today, for example, I didn't pack myself a lunch so, instead of just buying a light salad and perhaps a piece of fruit, I felt it only right that I buy a (deliciously) massive ham salad sandwich loaded with (scrumptious) full-fat home-made coleslaw, accompanied by a (delightful) ham and cheese pastry thing and, just to top it all off, a massive brick of (gorgeous) lemon shortbread.
Now, I hasten to add, all of this stuff (which I bought from a rather excellent sandwich shop the delights of which I have not sampled before) was absolutely gorgeous...but now here I am, full, bloated, lethargic and wondering why, oh why, I just couldn't say no.
Crack cocaine? Life-ruining and treachorous.
Heroin? The scurge of modern society.
Crystal Meth? Dangerously addictive and evil.
But what, I ask, is the government doing about home-made chocolate brownies and lemon drizzle cake?
No... I'm not going to admit to having had a massive relapse into smoking. Nor have I developed a drink habit. Instead, my downfall is home-made cakes and pastries of the type sold by the quaint little village shops here in Bakewell in the beautiful Peak District. See, in my bid to get more organised, I seem to have got myself into a weird sort of mental agreement with myself whereby if I forget to make my lunch for the day, I have to then go and buy far too much lunch at one of these lovely places. Today, for example, I didn't pack myself a lunch so, instead of just buying a light salad and perhaps a piece of fruit, I felt it only right that I buy a (deliciously) massive ham salad sandwich loaded with (scrumptious) full-fat home-made coleslaw, accompanied by a (delightful) ham and cheese pastry thing and, just to top it all off, a massive brick of (gorgeous) lemon shortbread.
Now, I hasten to add, all of this stuff (which I bought from a rather excellent sandwich shop the delights of which I have not sampled before) was absolutely gorgeous...but now here I am, full, bloated, lethargic and wondering why, oh why, I just couldn't say no.
Crack cocaine? Life-ruining and treachorous.
Heroin? The scurge of modern society.
Crystal Meth? Dangerously addictive and evil.
But what, I ask, is the government doing about home-made chocolate brownies and lemon drizzle cake?
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