I’m writing this on the back of a terrible night’s sleep that was less satisfying than the last episode of Lost.
With my lack of sleep comes a lack of self-control around food. My willpower towards chocolate is weaker than a field mouse with M.E.
People bang on about a healthy diet but it's not so easy when you're so tired you can feel your face drooping like a novelty candle. If your kids have been up half the night screaming like Axl Rose when he stubs a toe, a banana isn't going to cut the mustard.
My old home economics teacher used to say, 'There's nothing better than a ripe and juicy apple.'
On three hours sleep I don’t care if it’s ripe, juicy and singing ‘We Are The World’ in Esperanto. Give me a ripe, juicy chocolate muffin and before you leave, do me a favour and squirt that whipped cream directly into my cake hole.
Because I'm exhausted and I need filth, not fruit.
Breakfast this morning consisted of four chocolate digestives, two packets of crisps and a cup of coffee. This was followed by a large piece of cheesecake that was just sitting there, giving me the eye.
I then went back into the kitchen for a ‘browse’.
When I’m running on empty, ‘a browse’ translates as:
Searching for additional foodstuffs that are high in sugar and low in health benefits to insert into my face.
Before I knew it I was throwing biscuit after biscuit into my mush. With every bite came added inner-turmoil. I felt like Gollum with an eating disorder.
ME: You deserve this biscuit. You’ve hardly slept.
CONSCIENCE: BUT THINK OF THE CALORIES! YOU’RE GETTING FAT AND IT’S NOT EVEN CHRISTMAS!
ME: Ignore him. You need the sugar. It’ll give you that energy you need.
CONSCIENCE: YOU’VE ALREADY HAD A VAT OF COFFEE, HOW MUCH MORE FALSE ENERGY DO YOU NEED?
ME: Just keep shoveling those things into your mouth. Mmm, enjoy the taste. You’ve earned this little treat.
CONSCIENCE: LITTLE TREAT? YOU’VE EATEN TWO THIRDS OF THE PACKET ALREADY YOU FAT BASTARD!
I was insisting to myself that each one would be the last. I only thought this with confidence as I scrunched up the empty packet for the bin.
If you can survive on fruit and falafel when you’re knackered then you’re clearly a better human than me. I also doubt we’ll ever be close friends.
I’m more likely to be seen standing in the kitchen in my underpants, crying to myself while shovelling Ben and Jerry’s ice cream into my mouth. Straight from the tub off the end of a pen.
And if that mental image doesn't put you off your dinner then you're probably very similar to me.
I'm a stand up comic and new dad to twins. Click here to follow my parenting blog on Facebook. (Or go to the top right of this page)