I want to quit the fags but I’m not beating myself up just yet

By Jennifer Betts  @JenniferBetts01 

So, we meet again, new year. You look the same as 2017 and have brought with you such macabre gifts.

With all the unwrapping of gifts in December, I’d nearly forgotten that I would have to unwrap the worst one this month – two stone.

Well, I’m guessing it’s two stone, it feels like two stone, but we’ll just avoid the scales until at least Patrick’s Day.

Don’t worry, this is not another diatribe of how to lose that Christmas weight. Mine is keeping me sufficiently warm until the temperature increases and I have to admit, I don’t regret one single morsel of calorie – laden delights that I relished over Christmas.

We’re faced with a good old slap of reality.  That anguish-inducing realisation that no, you can’t sit around all day watching Black Mirror, (it’s over Jennifer, face facts) or take that long lie in, or have pavlova for breakfast,
it’s over!

And like a bad break-up, if you’re like me, you just need some time to say goodbye to endless parties, prosecco (oh, the prosecco) 27 different types of cheese and I’m not just talking about Wham.

You can see a pattern forming here can’t you? Yes, I ate myself into oblivion last Christmas. Was it worth it? Hell yeah, I still walked the dog every day.

But my false tan always seems to wear off on my face first and my eyebrows dissolved, so I felt sorry for those who saw that on Sandymount Strand.

We’re almost at the end of January and it you haven’t made any resolutions, don’t bother catching up!  If you’re feeling inspired to get fit, by all means, get up off that couch and go running.

Just bear in mind that I’ll be waving at you from my window, from my warm sitting room, covered up in my new bathrobe that my sister gifted me.

I am feeling inspired to quit smoking and have taken the first steps by making an appointment with the doctor so discuss my best chance of success, so we’ll see where that leads me.

But to my friends and family, I apologise in advance for being a walking Damien; who’s secretly plotting your death, even with your words of encouragement. Yes I know how much I’ll save. Yes I know, it’s saving my life. Yes I know it’s disgusting. (Or is it?) Damn you temptation.

If I make it smoke-free for a while, I will treat myself to a spa day.  If YOU make it through this month by my side? I’ll be very impressed.

My point is lovies, if you still want to make a resolution, make it, but make it a realistic one (says the 20 a day fag smoker) But if you can’t think of a single thing, then that’s okay too.