Another day browsing the diet section at the bookstores, and I'm feeling dizzy. Perhaps because I've been surviving on Skinny Latte's and cigarettes for the past few days. I feel like a garbage receptacle. The post Christmas blues have gotten me good. Too many yummylicious canapes and far too much Champagne. The new year begins in t-1 days, and I vow to change things around. I've tried every single diet under the vacant London sun; from low-carb (successful, but piling them on like a double decker in the long-run), to low-calorie (sneaking into the fridge at 2 a.m for fudge cake) and even juicing (make sure you know where the nearest lavatory is). I'm just always hungry. Of course, there are those detox-delivery plans that are so.not.condusive during these economically challenged times, not to mention hefty supermarket lists that include obscure and bank-breaking ingredients. I'm not a big girl, but I could afford to lose a few kilos around the mid-section and most of the diet books preach to an obese audience, hence the "lose 20 pounds a month" catch-phrases. An average girl like me would never lose that much weight.
It's late and Pizza Hut is closed, the T.V is on and I'm girl-crushing on photos of a bikini-clad Karolina Kurkova. Those curves!
I hit the kitchen and all that remains is a lonesome container of Pot Noodles hiding on the top shelf. I boil some water and in two minutes, my £2 solution is ready. As I tuck in, I realize that I could never divorce carbs, or noodles for that matter and then, an epiphany! The Pot Noodle diet. It's cheap, and I could think of a million colourful ways to eat them. Stir fried, soupy, with low-fat cheese, and vegetables. It would be a low-calorie plan with a healthy balance of carbs, lean protein and loads of fibre.
The pot noodle diet.
It's credit crunch chic.
