Suffering from the most ghastly cold imagineable. Mr Smith bought us donuts for supper and they were perfect comfort food for us snivelling wrecks.
I am just too ill to think about weight and diets and that crap right now. Stayed in bed yesterday morning and read Arabella Weir's new book The Real Me is Thin. It was disappointing. It could have been written by me. I am almost coming round to the whole "I want the chocolate biscuit more than I want to be thin" thing ... but not quite.
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