Pasta’s a cruel mistress. You’re eating away thinking “god I’m so hungry I could eat this forever. I just can’t seem to get full. I wish this pasta would never end. After this I’ll swing by the Pammy cafe and grab a chip roll and a family bag o’ Skittles”.
Five minutes later you’re lying on the couch wishing somebody would harpoon you to put you out of your bloaty misery, and thinking “tomorrow I’m just drinking hot water and lemon. Definitely that’s all I’m drinking. In fact I’m fasting tomorrow. Give the old metabolism a rest”.
Another five minutes later you’re eyeing up the toastie machine and chain eating Jaffa cakes.