As a fulltime, well into middle age writer, (eh hem – I am assuming I will live until I am at least 100yrs old) the size of my backside and how square it is becoming, is a constant worrying thought. Not only do I force myself to go to exercise classes at least three times a week, to wobble along with other like minded ladies, I also am on a near constant diet.
A diet that has never really worked until recently.
It’s all too easy to fall into bad habits when writing. That moment when you pause your fingertips over the keyboard, rise to stretch your back, flick on the kettle for that inspirational cuppa while searching the recesses of your brain for that perfect word, that heartbreaker sentence, that killer retort… And you end up looking in the fridge or the cupboard, for nothing in particular, and see a random bag of crisps or the last cold sausage.
Your mind instantly goes wild and you glance over your shoulder to check no one’s looking, even though you know that everyone went to work hours ago. Will anyone notice if the crisps go missing or the sausage suddenly disappears? Can I blame the vanishing delights on having to offer refreshment to an unexpected visitor? Do I say that the crisps were going out of date? Or can I bring a character in my latest book to life and turn him into a food loving kleptomaniac?
Sadly, I can and have done in the past, but no longer! Because I am now on the Pooch Plan!
The Pooch Plan? Yes, I was doubtful about it myself, but I have discovered that it works incredibly well. And it is also unbelievably easy to follow. No need to count calories. No adding up various points. No eating tinned tuna three days in a row…
And the diet is priced well too. Affordable meal plans, no special shakes, actually, you don’t need to alter your shopping experience at all.
All that is necessary for complete success on the Pooch Plan, is one large, expressive eyed, and ever hungry dog!
On the Pooch Plan, you will notice that there is always a friendly companion beside you, almost before you open that cupboard door. The merest squeak of a hinge and he is there, peering up at you with soulful, starving eyes, to see what delicious goodies you have unearthed. He stands at first, and then sits, reaching up a paw as your fingers stretch out for said sausage, his eyes, soft and needy, stare up at you. A pink tongue appears and swipes over a strand of drool, as he begs to share your latest taste bud experience.
But the dog mustn’t have sausages, or crisps, or anything else that lies so handily within reach. He’ll become overweight, ruin his hip joints, or weaken his heart…
So you take a few seconds to think. Do I sneak my snack anyway and leave my companion without? How rude! I wouldn’t do that to a friend. And my dog is my friend. One of the best. Do I share the tasty morsel, and encourage him to join in my own bad eating habits?
Or do I sigh and close the fridge door?
Yes. I do the right thing. For both of us. I look in the fruit bowl and take out an apple, and reach for a dog’s dental chew. He gives me a tail wag and I give him a rub over his silky ears as I head back to my computer, head held high, and bottom growing smaller by the hour, the Pooch Plan having worked its wonders yet again!