Out of all the seven deadly sins, there are a few which I frequently indulge in despite what my surname suggests (its 'Saint' by the way). My top three would have to be gluttony, sloth and… (cue a brief internet search)… who knows, probably a dominant dash of pride. The main sin that I’m currently in the midst of is, of course, gluttony. My poor potbelly is straining at my waistband as I sit on my arse in my tiny hot office. However, the pain of the straining belly pales in comparison to the enormous guilt I now carry over last night’s crazy binge. It was a case of coming home from work, having dinner, the thought of having something sweet entering my mind… then I blacked out. I came round to find myself lying in the centre of the kitchen floor, chocolate smeared around my mouth, crusts of bread tragically splayed around me, empty cartons flung over the counter tops. A serious crime scene. All I know is something bad had happened, and I felt dirty all over.
According to the knowledgeable abyss that is Wikipedia, there are several types of gluttony which are apparently going to send you belly-flopping down to the pits of hell. And goddamn it, I’m guilty of every one (apart from the dainty one, shove it in my gob thank you please):
Eating too soon.
Eating too expensively.
Eating too much.
Eating too eagerly (burningly).
Eating too daintily (keenly).
Eating wildly (boringly).
Jesus, the Pope sure was a fussy eater.
The lengths I’ll go on a binge is pretty impressive to be honest. No cookies left in the packet? All ice cream licked out the container? All’s not lost, grab a spoon and a jar of peanut butter/jam/apple sauce and voila! Instant treat that I’m sure God would be proud of.
I know that people (I refuse to be sexist and pin food obsession on girls alone) can obsess slightly over diets and figures, but this is getting ridiculous since I graduated and was forced back home A.K.A food central. The usual 7Ilbs have piled on, but since I no longer have the escape of University it might just keep going until the headlines read: ‘30 stone person rots in own chair-gender unknown due to extreme obesity’.
Save my soul now with fruit and Weetabix. Weightwatchers now seem more like a jiggling troupe of messiahs, and Fat Fighters must have added their own halos to the posters or that crack has got me hallucinating again.
Anyway, the point of this depressed moan about my shit diet is that whatever’s happening in your life, I have a sure-fire guarantee to make you feel better: Switch on MTV’S ‘Kerry Katona: Crazy in Love’ and watch the kebab garnished car-crash unfold. Ten minutes should do it (that’s all I can literally stomach) and your ready to face your life again. Life suddenly doesn’t seem too bad.
p.s. i cant believe i missed the beginning of Gossip Girl season 3 last night. but instead i saw Zombieland....
