My non-diet

'Just popping out to Asda, darling!' I hollered at The Husband (TH) as I grabbed the car keys and made for the front door.

Of course, I had no such intention.

My intention was to scour the Next sale racks and then scoot into Asda for a lemon and some semi-skimmed milk and pass these off as the essential items lacking in our kitchen.

Well. I had vouchers. And they had to be spent.

Today.

I slipped into the changing room with three pairs of trousers, a plum-coloured cardigan which looked as if it had been put in a hot wash by mistake (a 'shrug', apparently) and a flesh-baring sparkly top.

The shrug and sparkly top hit the floor first. (What was I thinking?)

However, the black 95% cotton/5% elastane bootleg trousers were an instant hit.

I twirled and paraded round the 4ft by 4ft changing cubicle, ooh-ing and ah-ing at the trimness of my behind and the way the material clung to my thighs in a not unflattering fashion.

But finally I had to breathe out and then I spotted it.

A slab of flab beginning under my breasts and hanging over the top of the trousers.

'That will go!' I said to myself smugly. 'No need to worry about that!'

Go where, though?

Background note: I've never been one to go on diets. Not because I haven't needed to, but I always felt that a woman on a diet was a walking cliche (in some cases, a waddling cliche).

That's right. It wasn't a case of 'I'm not dieting because I am thin!' or 'I'm not dieting because I am happy with the way I look!'. It was 'I'm not dieting because it's a cliche!'.

I managed to string this position out until this time last year when I realised I was certifiably overweight (you know, I typed some figures into an online test and it said 'you are overweight!' oh, I thought I was just a tad pudgy).

Anyway. Back to the slab of flab and its final destination.

I am not on a diet but I'm trying to lose a few pounds, preferably those contained in the aforementioned slab of flab.

I remember asking TH where the fat went when you 'lost' it.

'Do you pee it out?' I wondered aloud.

'I think I would find it hugely incentivising if it were to drop off in blobs as you walked along the street. What people want when it comes to weight loss is visual evidence of the loss as it happens.'

'Yuk!' protested TH.

'It's just not enough for the diet groupies to show us the equivalent number of packets of lard. I want to see my fat!'

'Stop it!', said TH.

So today I had porridge for breakfast. And we have Quorn Chicken Style Pieces and reduced fat hummous in the fridge.

Hey, I tell you: I am well on my way...