Sun 22nd August 2010
Never, since I started all this Ramazan tomfoolery, have I written my daily record before sundown. I’m not sure why. I suppose that all of my energy has been poured into distracting myself from the task right up until that crucial time when I can indulge in basic nutrition again. So usually my belly is nice and full and my mood has significantly improved by the time I sit down to write. But because the variety’s the spice of life (or because I’m bored and don’t know what else to do), I’m writing this in the final countdown to feeding time.
And just in case you’re wondering, my lady problem is beginning to disappear thank you very much. Looks like the cranberry juice and water have done the trick. So that’s the good news. But the bad news is, that since yesterday morning when I began to allow myself fluids again, my stomach has been positively roaring with hunger throughout the majority of the day. Before this, I was beginning to master the daytime ritual of a foodless existence. But now, it’s breaking me. It really is. I am tempted to look it up in a medical dictionary – does drinking water kick-start your metabolism? Does it make your tummy expect that food is next on the agenda? Am I messing my tummy about? Will it ever forgive me and can we ever rebuild our relationship? Is there a future for us? Please, for the love of chocolate related foodstuffs, please say that there is.
Maybe couple counseling would help.
Speaking of couples, where the flip is my husband of late? Since my friend Jenny came to visit (she left today, probably much to her appetite’s relief) we have done little other than cross paths. His kebab shop has been mega busy and on weekends he works ridiculously late shifts at a local pub. Full points for bread-winning but nil points for basic communication with wife. It appears that he has chosen to live a vampire-like existence. He is awake when I’m sleeping (at the proper hour for sleeping, I might point out) and asleep when I’m expected to bound about with our energetic son and perform all domestic tasks. Funny that, when we’re in the middle of a ritual that allows the consumption of food and drink only in hours of darkness. Correct me if I’m wrong, but the element of challenge there seems to be lacking somewhat.
Right now though, I don’t give a monkey’s ass. It’s 8.44pm, the oven has pinged and there’s a feast to devour. Yum.
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