Now here's the thing. I've had a stonkingly good weekend, as, you'll be pleased to know, has my lovely flatmate. Unfortunately, in my case, so stonking I've not finished writing up the weekend and the inevitable justifications for why the Monday weigh-in was rubbish.
But. It wasn't.
I weighed in at 91.8kg, my flatmate a still slender 68.9kg. Which means I managed to shed 2.5kg of pies, or five and a half pounds of lard.
Does. A. Little. Dance.
Astonishingly, my flatmate dropped too (after a run) and she had been to a christening. Where there was cake. I doubt I'll keep it up, but it does mean I have dropped below a psychological half stone mark when I convert to real money, I guess my next psychological marker is dropping in to the eighties. This is good and, surprisingly, wasn't as bad as I thought. Plus I definitely didn't skimp on fun.
You can read more when I finish writing up the weekend...