Traveling back from Liverpool on the train this morning I felt very tired. I don't know why I keep forgetting how exhausting just getting to and from gigs round the country can be. And with Edinburgh, sit-com readings, podcasts, writing guides and gigs a plenty filling the next few weeks I am not going to get too much time to relax and catch up on my sleep.
The main problem with being tired is that my body craves sugar to keep me going and I went on a bit of a ginger based frenzy this afternoon. I ate three gingerbread men and had a can of ginger beer. I don't know what was particularly attracting me to ginger today or why I mainly chose to ingest it in man shaped form (though one of my gingerbread men was a woman, or a transvestite, which at least added to the variety). I also had some mini-eggs and a bun as well. It was the feeding frenzy of a man who has denied himself too much over the last five months and I was out of control. Once in a while this kind of behaviour is OK, I suppose, and it was regular splurging like this, if I am honest, that made me put on the weight in the first place. I was too tired to go to the gym, which might have repaired some of the damage. I will have to be double good tomorrow. But will the next two months of intensive work, followed by the drink and fried food filled Edinburgh Fringe, mean that I am back to my old weight by September. I am going to do all I can to prevent that. But my addiction to gingerbread men might be my undoing. I may have consumed an army of them by August. Maybe if I have enough of them I will turn into a gingerbread man myself, like some kind of villain from the TV version of Batman. More likely I will just turn into the star of my own show - Fatman.
