The title of this post is misleading. It should read, attempting to be thin, full of rage.
As explained here, I am trying to lose a few pounds. Actually it's more like a baker's dozen. (ahhh bread. Lovely, doughy bread).
Two weeks in and I have realised something. Thin people must be angry. All the time.
Last night on the train home, I had to sit on my hands so as not to violently shove the donut, the woman next to me was eating, down her happy throat. After having a bite of course.
I reserve a special reserve of loathing for my lunch time soup. I mean seriously? What. is. the. point.
My lunch routine now goes something like this.
Buy soup. (Whilst muttering about the injustice of paying £3 for what is effectively water and sad veg). Complain about price of soup to colleagues. Swear internally as a well meaning colleague gives me a recipe for her homemade mush. Go downstairs to office kitchen. Get bowl. No spoons.
Go to upstairs kitchen, get said spoon. Walk back downstairs to middle kitchen, stand in queue for microwave. Heat soup for 5 minutes in which I make agonizing small talk with people I didn't know I worked with. Try to ignore the burning stares of our HR woman (who HATES me).
Carry burning bowl down up two flights of stairs to desk. Eat it, hunched over my desk, grumbling like a demented harpie.
Wish I'd gone to the pub.