'I can't bear it,' I say to Lily on viewing myself in the bathroom mirror. 'I've got a muffin top.'
'Is it blueberry?' she enquires sweetly.
'Do you actually know what a muffin top is?'
'Well this one's pinky-white and fleshy and fatty.'
'Precisely. What am I going to do?'
'You should go to the gym.'
The thing is, I hate gyms. The only time I had a personal trainer, and paid him jolly good money I may add, he gave up on me.
'I give up,' he said. 'When we work on a muscle in your calf, your thigh hurts. When we work on your triceps, your neck aches.' I only stayed with him because of the final stretch at the end of the session, where I'd be on my back with my knees up to my stomach and he'd lie on top of me, gazing deep into my eyes with his beautiful green-flecked eyes.
He turned gay soon afterwards.
Ah well. It's a toss-up between the 5:2 and the Alkaline Diet. Except. Darn. Just remembered that delicious lemon drizzle polenta cake Lily made at the weekend. Ah well. I'll start tomorrow.