What Am I - A Man, A Mouse Or A Mouse Riding A Frog?

I’m beginning to think that stopping smoking and starting the diet at the same time was maybe asking a little too much of myself. I think I may – ironically enough – have bitten of more than I can chew. In fact, you could say that today I am finding my New Regime a little difficult to swallow. And other consumption-based metaphors.

Ordinarily by this time of day, I would have had three bacon sandwiches and two cups of coffee. Maybe a few biscuits too. And now I would be heading for more coffee and a chocolate croissant or two. Jesus, no wonder I’m such a bloater. I would also have smoked at least three cigarettes.

I’m starting to get edgy now from not smoking cigarettes. I really want one. My fingers are twitching. I’ve brought the ukulele out of its case though and I’m going to have a little fiddle now. I used to play a lot. I learned in my late teens and became super proficient. Then I let it go. Now I think is exactly the right time to bring it back. Give me something to do with my fingers… The only problem is that I can’t write and play at the same time. Smoking cigarettes was rather more versatile in that way. But it was giving me cancer. And gum disease. And horrible brown fingers.

But oh my dear sweet God in Heaven, how I want a cigarette right now. I could scream.

Balls to it though. To hell with this craving. What am I after all – a man or a mouse? That’s right, I am a man. A giant of a man, probably equivalent to 5,000 mice. And I have strength, lots of strength. I have so much strength in me you have no idea.

And to prove it, here's a picture of a mouse riding a frog.



I think I may be losing my mind by the way.

Right. I’m going to buy some fruit!