Which means I’m not allowed to indulge in my pre-Apocalyptic, pre-Rapture, pre end-of-the-world-we’re-going-to-die-anyway favourite meal and most recent craving: baked apple cinnamon goodies.
Somebody alert the authorities, I’ve got criminal intent… to eat lots of apple pie.
Now there’s a real danger that I’ll turn into something round and pink that vaguely resembles the Samantha you remember and hold dearly in your heart.
And a little of this…
And oh yeah some of this too:
I feel kind of dirty after all of the food pron…
Luckily my dear friend and semi-reluctant personal chef Jerusha has been baking up an apple-cinnamon storm for me.
But now, alas, it’s official. The world’s only ending in October (according to very trustworthy sources – the man that predicted the initial Apocalypse: 21 May; which may or may not have happened). That means I’ve got plenty of time to lose 11kg and go down (or up) as a Super-Hot Woman.
In other words: good-bye carbs. Hello celery. Even during the ghastly, wet, dreary Cape Town winter – which all Capetonians seem to love. Hello running in the rain and the dark. And, saddest of all, good-bye apple-cinnamon goodies. Good-bye.