I completely lost my shit at the kids on Saturday. We were in the car and they were being loud and boisterous, like kids are, and I blew my stack big time. I’m so ashamed of myself. I know that every parent has lost their shit at their kids at some stage and probably felt terrible about it afterwards, but I really overreacted. They did nothing wrong, they were just being loud (loudness is in their DNA). I was just hungry. Hangry. I was rostered on air from 6am – 12pm that day and in my reptilian haste I forgot to take my egg and Metformin pill with me to eat in the morning. What a rookie error. It was 20 past 5 in the morning, however. Prior to this job, I didn’t even know there was a 20 past 5 in the morning…….. I had no money to buy anything for breakfast and if I did, what was I going to buy? I am avoiding bakeries and café’s like the plague in a bid to cut out shit food from my diet. I was so disappointed in myself. I usually have a great memory. I remember everything. Here are some of my friends’ pin numbers. 2742, 8696, 5590, 8699, 0151, 2302, 1430 & 6937. Never forget a pin number, especially when it is given to you in a pub. We were on our way to Silverdale for a family lunch and we were running late. I had made a gangster Cajun chicken salad that I was taking with me because I knew that there was going to be very little that I would be able to eat once we arrived at our destination. Our hosts were amazing and as predicted, there was SWEET FUCK ALL by way of low carb options available for their triple XL guest. The last time I had eaten was Friday evening at 5:30pm. This was getting stupid. I had to endure the 10 minutes of ‘how are you’s’ and ’what’s new’s’ before I felt comfortable tucking into my first meal of the day. I like to have a straight back when I eat so I ate my salad at the table. The same table where the bewildering array of delicious food that I can no longer eat was begging me to get stuck in. Much like how Russel Crowe has to ignore his hallucinations in the film ‘A Beautiful Mind’ I had to tell the little jam and cream pikelets, mini savoury pies and the macaroons that I can no longer indulge in their company. That there is no room in my life for them anymore. Then came the ‘left hook’ from our host. “Can I get you something to drink, lee? Beer? Bourbon, Wine?” Right then I had a moment of clarity and came to the realisation that not only was I battling diabetes and trying to lose weight, but I was also tackling a 15 year drinking problem, too. I have never admitted this out loud before (and technically, I’m not doing that by writing this) but I was an alcoholic. A functioning alcoholic, at that. The whole ‘no drinking’ is what is really going to kill me. I’m not used to it. It has been such a big part of my adult life for so long. It was my release. I need to replace it with something. Maybe I’ll replace it with tattoos. There are zero calories in tattoos. There are also zero calories in pingers, but I don’t think that an A Class drug habit is the answer. Kicking the booze is the worst part of this whole ordeal. To be honest, it was probably also a contributing factor in my mid car meltdown at the kiddies. My poor family, they’re the ones that’ll get it the worst. It’s always the ones closest to you that get it the worst. I politely declined the drink and said that I was happy with my bottle of water. I’m not looking forward to social functions with my friends, in fact; I’m just waiting for my mates to drop the line “The old Lee wouldn’t say no to a beer”. Well guess what? The old Lee isn’t here anymore. He’s been booted out of the car on the northern motorway for losing his shit at his kids. He’s been thrown out in the recycling bin, with all the empty Lion Red bottles and half-filled, flat bottles of Coke. That prick is gone, and he isn’t coming back. Fucking deal with it! When we got home I decided that I would have my cheat meal for the week. I wanted a KFC double down. Shit the bed did I want a KFC Double Down. Why did they have to bring them back now? NOW OF ALL TIMES?! It’s almost as if fast food establishments don’t care about my current state of health. Just watching the commercial for the Double Down fills my entire mouth with saliva. I ended up grabbing Chinese from the best Chinese takeaways on the westside – Golden Palace on Bruce McLaren Road. Seriously – if you’re ever on the west side of Auckland there are two things you need to do.
I decided to get Chinese because in the big scheme of things, isn’t the worst cheat meal there is. I went for chicken. Chicken Chow Mein. Loaded with broccoli, cauliflower, carrot and Onion, with the crispy noodles that get all soggy and delicious like. I also had 5 or 6 pieces of sweet and sour chicken, which are deep fried and full of sugar but, fuck you! What you gonna do about it? I’ll fight you! The portions were smaller, and it felt great eating something that I WANTED to eat, not something that I HAD TO eat. My brother grabbed me a drink to go with dinner, too. A 2.25 litre L&P. 2.25 litres!!!!!! Even when I was smashing fizzy drinks, there is no way I could do a 2.25 litre bottle of L&P. Unless it was used as a mixer. He said, and this is a direct quote from the little bro ~ “Seeing as you can’t have much sugar anymore I thought I’d buy you a drink that doesn’t have as much sugar in it as the others” …………...Honestly? Jesus……. The thought was there, just not the logic. My brother is also the same genius who once said that Ice Cream was a healthy option as a dessert because it is made up mostly of air (oxygen). Dinner was fantastic. I didn’t feel weird or like I had let myself down for eating takeaways. Baby steps after all. Everyone is giving me dieting tips and success stories of people they know, which I am grateful for, but please, let me figure this out on my own. I don’t want to go too hard too soon. At the moment I am focussing on two things
Chur. L
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AuthorLee Weir - Radio Announcer, Marriage Celebrant and Guinness World Record Holder. Archives
January 2024
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