The kitchen is closed: night 1

Yesterday I was thinking about what I could give up for Lent.

I considered an option, then talked about a Plan B in case the first option was not feasible, and I might have been particularly unclear about what I was going to do.

I fear it might have been my subconscious trying to sabotage my attempt. My subconscious would do anything for a cheese sandwich after midnight.

Later during the day, an email from Dr B. sussed my gutless lack of commitment out by pointing out that

It states what you’ve considered for your plan A and what your plan B actually is but nowhere does it state what your plan A actually is.

Now it is decided, and I can reveal that I am sticking to yesterday’s Plan A: no food or drink between 11pm and 7am.

The first night was easy, as it was not a typical midweek night, but a special occasion as a friend of mine who missed my birthday took us out for dinner at Sardo. Food so good that I ate uncharacteristically slowly. Generous and kind friends, providing very interesting conversation. One last glass of limoncello at our hosts before heading home.

Once back in the flat, I undressed, brushed my teeth and by midnight I was in bed, where I slept until 6.

I saw it as an achievement. Dr B. reminded me it could all be down to the alcohol that was consumed last night.

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