So I guess you could say that today marks the start of my countdown to holiday – exactly four weeks from now almost to the minute, five of my very best friends and I will be touching down thousands of miles away from home for a few days of girly time to celebrate my big birthday. The one that kicks off my next decade…you know, the decade where I’m going to be fifty and fabulous.  Fifty, fabulous and skinny. My friends and I have been exchanging giddy texts this afternoon along the lines of ‘Four weeks from today…’ and I’m grinning from ear to ear when I think about how much we are going to laugh.

Now, I have to hold my hands up and admit that I’m not really a big planner. I’m more of a ‘fly it as I’m building it’ kind of girl – in work I have to be uber organised which means that outside of work I lurk at the opposite end of the spectrum and I’m often caught with my pants down, metaphorically speaking.

I’m conscious that this holiday is my first milestone where the diet is concerned, and I’ve got a big red flag waiting in the wings to signal danger…I’m so happy that 5 weeks in it’s going so well, but it’s only the first in a long line of milestones, and I’m in this for the long game so it’s time to open negotiations with the asshole about what happens on holiday, and what happens when I get home. I need to have a plan.

He’s obviously been anticipating the conversation, and his opening gambit was to suggest that for the four days I’m away, I throw caution to the wind and eat everything that isn’t nailed down. Predictable, asshole. To be fair, it’s a strategy I’ve agreed to in the past, in fact I’m probably not exaggerating when I say I’ve been known to leap on it with indecent enthusiasm and sign on the dotted line without giving it a second thought. In the past, but not this time.

I’m not a big drinker – maybe because I’ve been on so many diets over the years where I’ve been mindful of restricting calories, or counting points, or adding up sins…whatever form the diet took, to me alcohol was a waste of whatever it was I was counting – but even when I’m not dieting, I can take it or leave it. If I’m with friends and we’re having a drink, you know I’ll have a drink, but between social occasions it doesn’t ever occur to me. Thing is, I suspect our little holiday will kind of be a four day social occasion…if you get my drift, wink wink. 

So lets examine the possible flash points.  The asshole is on my case, singing ‘Let it go’ …I’m likely to be flirting with tipsy for a good proportion of the holiday (my friends are wicked wicked people 🙂 ) and we’ll be loose in a city where there’s a buffet on every corner and mostly the drinks are free.

I think I need to work on my strategy before I return to the negotiating table.

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